


Remembrance

by KenwayTheAnarchist



Series: The Three Re's [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, American Revolution, Colonialism, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Historical, Humor, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Revolutionary War, Romance, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-12 02:36:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 23,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2092452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KenwayTheAnarchist/pseuds/KenwayTheAnarchist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Reader x Connor]</p><p>What was the meaning behind everything that had occurred? You were raised by Mohawks after your loss off parents due to the Seven Years' War. Then, a man named Achilles had taken you in two years later, after running away from the Kanien'kehá:ka.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> :'D I'm so excited to start this story ;w; I just got Assassins Creed III for Christmas, and I'm slicing all them Templars like they were cheese. ;D That made no sense.
> 
> This is a Reader x Connor fic, I hope you enjoy ;D

"[Name]!"

........

"[NAME]!"

You bolted up out of the cushioned bed, blanket flying into the air and then residing back onto the mattress. Tired, you brought your lagging arms up to rub your blurred eyes. As soon as your eyes had adapted to your surroundings, telling you that you were in the Davenport Homestead, you swung your legs so that your feet were facing towards the door. You stood up, yawning with your arms extended outward in order to stretch.

"[Name]!" The voice shot out again.

"I'm awake, old man!" You shouted back.

"Hurry and change, because you're taking care of the homestead while I am in town for shopping!"

You groaned, but then changed your expression from stern and uninviting to a somewhat excited face. "Sure thing!" That damned hermit. You bet he did that on purpose, just so that he would not have to come about with difficult toil, or he just did not want to deal with you. You grinned maliciously.

You were always one to cause trouble, but only for the heck of it. It was amusing to be a pain in the arse for others, and it's much easier than pleasing every single person, especially those who do not deserve it. You would fool around with the swines, creating a mess when you returned to the manor. Of course, you would also cause trouble for the neighbors as well, shouting out hilarious retorts to the looks they give you. Yes, it sounds like you are the type to cause trouble every second, but it was only the times where you felt alone. There were no other girls your age, or at least girls your age that didn't give you grim expressions every time they saw you.

Hell, what did you care? You were a thirteen year old girl. Losing your parents to brutal redcoats which lead yourself to be found by a Native American at the age four, you had learned to be more aware and vigilant.

Your head hurt as you tried to remember. The thing most important that you knew was Achilles had taken you in when you proved not to be a threat at age nine. You giggled at how wrong he was. Although there was one thing forgotten to be mentioned.

Ever since, you've been training as an assassin under his tutelage.


	2. Lifestyle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey ;D It's 12:39 AM and I'm writing for the heck of it. You're welcome :D
> 
> Okay don't be mad at me, Connor MIGHT not appear until a while. I just want you to, you know, get used to you. So bear with me please. I do apologize for any incorrect information, by the way.

After you had changed into your most comfortable work clothing- none of those frilly, excessive, and superfluous dresses- you had a cup of tea and a biscuit, even though they weren't exactly your most favored foods.

As you were munching down, you had noticed an aged, worn-out journal laying on the opposite side of the wooden table. You were wondering whether or not you should pick it up, for it was no business of yours to snoop around others' belongings. However, it's not like anybody within the household would care; the only people being yourself and Achilles. If it truly wasn't your journal, the greatest punishment Achilles would allot would be excessive working time, which you did not truly care about.

Hell, you decided to examine it anyways. You stood out of your chair and reached across the table for the leathery book. When it was encased it in your hands, you felt the chill of its cooled cover meet your warm-blooded skin. It was worn and torn of age, and you even noticed burnt edges. The pages were crackly when you opened it, the sound like crisp, dry leaves being stepped on. You turned to the very first entry and examined the scratchy handwriting. It was not in English. The thing that confused you the most was that you knew the language.

It was the language of the Kanien'keha:ka. You began translating the first entry.

_I still remember that day. Fires blazed and illuminated the already bright sky. I heard cries of despair, shrieks of fear, and calls of woe. And witnessing Ratonhnhaké:ton being taken away from his dying mother had scarred me. Of course, I did not have a mother or father in the village. Kaniehtí:io was the only one who I could call a mother. Now here I am, even more alone. I still don't know a thing about my true parents. Nobody in the village had bothered to explain. They seem to avoid the topic. In fact, now, all of the people I would have called friends are treating me like an outsider. I feel discriminated and alone. Ratonhnhaké:ton is an exception. He is the only one who still remembers that I too am apart of the village. They all believe that I was a part of the plan to burn Kanatahséton._

Your hands begin to shake as you almost lose your grip of the book as you soon realize something. This journal used to belong to you. You began to remember everything... You flipped to farther pages and translated them as well.

_I cannot take it anymore! I'm leaving this wretched village! Everyone takes me as a traitor! I may not look the same, but it does not mean I am no different. I am constantly mocked, and glares are shot at me from the elders. Ratonhnhaké:ton insists I stay. I oppose. Tomorrow I set out and look for a new home. Or I settle in the woods by myself. I just cannot accept these insults._

You flip to a page not too far from the entry you just read, still with stern expression. This page was in English writing.

_I've settled into a Manor not too far from the village. I was surprised at the little effort it took. The man was introduced to me as Achilles Davenport, and this was his homestead. It was unusually easy for me to find a home so fast, but I saw that I would be like the daughter he never had. Well, I can only wish but for bright futures ahead._

You closed the journal halfheartedly. Perhaps you should reconsider all the trouble you cause. You laid the journal back onto the table and sat down, hand against your forehead.

You were born in Gettysburg, your ancestors being descendants of Italy and England. Due to the Seven Years' War, you had watched your parents murdered violently in the hands of the French. After that, you had merely escaped with your life, unfortunately without your parents. You wandered far from your former home, being only almost four years of age. You still wonder how you managed to survive, being such a youngling, but it did not matter as of now. You had been found by a Kanien'keha:ka native, fortunately. You learned their cultures, language, rules, and purpose. Soon enough, you had forgotten yours, the only thing remaining was the English language. You had become quick friends with a boy named Ratonhnhaké:ton, and he accepted you more than anyone else did. A year later, things went downhill and the next thing you knew, the village was burned to a crisp, and Ratonhnhaké:ton's mother, Kaniehtí:io, had been trapped under wood and burned alive. The next three years had been pain for you. All of the natives had soon began to think that you were part of the plan the burning of their village. Only Ratonhnhaké:ton and you knew about Charles Lee. The man he had told you about. But no matter the real cause, you were never accepted. You had said your farewells to those who cared, and the only one was Ratonhnhaké:ton. You were grateful for his loyalty, but knew that you did not truly belong. You had left the village at night, when not even a mouse scampered. Before you had left, Ratonhnhaké:ton was lucky enough to catch you before you left. You shared a final embrace, and soon, the village was nowhere to be seen.

And now here you are, in Achilles' homestead, being the daughter of the father you never had. You were truly grateful for this life and you could not ask for anything more.

You smiled at those thoughts and finally stood up, cleaning and putting the dishes away, and then leaving the manor.

You walked over towards the stables, and admired Achilles' favored horse. She was a beauty, that one. You brushed her, fed her, groomed her, and tended to her, for those were all a wont. A day full of toil to fulfill, that was the biggest wont of them all, but you did not care.

After you had cared for the animals, inspected businesses, greeted fellow residents, and admired the beauty of nature, you decided that the day was coming to an end. You stretched your arms upwards in relief and satisfaction as you made your way back to the manor.

You had walked a mile or so when you heard a howl from your left flank. You quickly turned to see a wolf, growling and in the crouched position that asked for blood and death. You smirked and accepted the challenge. You too had entered a battle stance, bending your legs and head high. The wolf had lunged at you along with a bark, and when it was less than a foot away, you sidestepped and quickly flicked your wrist outward, unleashing the hidden blade that never left your wrist, diving into the canine's neck. You smiled, satisfied at the game, and unsheathed a short blade that rested at your waist.

After you had skinned and butchered the meat, you had then continued returning to the manor. When you had arrived, you had spotted Achilles at the front door.

"Achilles!" You shouted.

He turned to see you running up in his direction and smiled. "You didn't cause trouble for the neighbors again, did you?"

You shook your head. "Of course not."

He looked at you in doubt.

"What?" You questioned. He shook his head and opened the door of the house. You both entered the manor and as you walked, you grinned and said, "I got good game for dinner, Achilles!"

He frowned, which had caused you to tilt your head in confusion. "What have I told you about killing animals?" He began.

"It attacked me first." You retorted.

"Either way." He softly said. "Next time, try and remember that I buy meat."

"Well," You hummed. "It's much cheaper to hunt anyways."

"It's not good for a girl as young as you to be involved with blood and violence, my dear."

You rolled your eyes. "Achilles, I'm not a baby." You groaned.

He smiled. "You are to me."

Ouch. Right in the dignity. You shot up. "What makes you think that?!" You asked, clearly annoyed.

"Oh, nothing at all." He chuckled.

You groaned and began preparing dinner. Achilles rested at the table and waited in patience.

...

Soon, you had finished and laid out a gorgeous dinner on the table.

"Your welcome." You joked.

"It looks wonderful, [Name]."

You laughed. "Well old man, I don't know about you, but I'm off to sleep." You yawned. "This day had been a little tiring, if you know what I mean."

"Good night then."

"G'night!" You shouted back as you ran up the stairs, and into your room. You crashed onto the bed and looked up at the ceiling, as if there was nothing else to look at. You smiled as you slowly drifted off to a deep slumber.

This was a regular day at the Davenport Homestead, and you could not ask for anymore than this.


	3. Joke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey thar ;D This is a chapter dedicated to the fun that "you" and Achilles can have :'D I don't care if you don't read it because it's only for fun, but it might be a little entertaining, I guess..? Just a Drabble I guess.

You grinned into the nice, crisp and wintry air, letting the cool wind brush across your face. You felt so free outdoors, as if you belonged there. The horse you were mounted on, the one Achilles had gave you for your tenth birthday, had galloped at a moderate speed, your tied up hair falling behind a bit, flowing gloriously. You stretched your arms outward and laid against the mare's backside, staring into the sky while the horse trotted along the Frontier. It was a perfect day, and it seemed like nothing could ruin such a marvel.

Achilles had smirked when he had seen you coming from the distance. He was perched atop of a very sturdy branch of yew tree, and despite his age, it did not take as much effort as he thought it would. Many of the branches and stubs had provided support as he had climbed, but he had only climbed in order to scout the area of his Homestead. As soon as you were close enough, he flicked something towards you that pierced through the cloth of your baggy sleeves. 

You felt yourself suddenly lifted into the air within a few seconds, eyes opening in a flash due to surprise. You turned your head in confusion, looking for reason, and watched as you horse came to a sudden halt, its loyalty as strong as ever. You heard the crackle of snow, and you swung yourself so that you faced in the other direction. Your arm hung by the rope dart as you groaned at Achilles, who had just jumped from the tree.

"I don't appreciate being used as an ornament." You scoffed.

He chuckled. "It's not my fault your guard was down."

You rolled your eyes, and started struggling to unhook the dart from your sleeve, until you heard a rip. Achilles chortled and began to walk off into the forest. 

"Hey!" You shouted, but he didn't bother to turn. "You're not gonna leave me hanging like this are you, old man?! Hey!!" 

You groaned as he was out of sight as you fought to remove the hook, until the rip you had heard before returned, and the next thing you know, you fall into the snow pile below.


	4. Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa there. I sense Connor. You lucky ducklings.

_On this land, I am torn. Part of me wants to fight and repel all outsiders. The other part of me is the outsider._

"Achilles!" You groaned, your face in your pillow, blanket covering your whole body, including your head. After a minute, with nothing, you shouted again. "Achilles!!" You tossed and turned in your bed, ignoring your bed head and the hair that was covering your eyes. You began hearing footsteps come up the stairs and was satisfied.  
  
Finally.  
  
You heard the door crack open, and heard the footsteps come closer. "What is it, girl?!"   
  
"Girl isn't a polite term for your daughter." You yawned, turning again.  
  
"You are not my daughter." He corrected.  
  
You rolled your eyes. "Well I sorta am."  
  
"What did you call me for?" He sighed. You turned to face him and grinned. "What?" He looked down at you, his hat creating a shadow over his eyes to give a rather dark appearance, telling you that you shouldn't be messing with him at five in the morning.  
  
"I dunno." You turned and went back to "sleep".  
  
You heard Achilles mumble to himself. You grinned once again to yourself, this time more triumphant and a bit more impish. Although, suddenly you felt yourself being dragged out of the bed by your collar. "Old man! What the hell do you think you're doing?" You flailed your arms around, struggling to loosen from his grip.  
  
"Getting you off your lazy butt so you can actually do some work around here for once," was his response.   
  
'Damn you.' You thought.  
  
"And if you're feeling as if you want to be cursing me out right now, those are more signs of your lack of labor."   
  
You groaned, purposely loud. "It's five o'clock!" You complained.

"Says the  _girl_  who  _woke_  me up at five o'clock." He retorted. He's got a point.

You sighed, knowing that you put this on yourself, so you might as well do what he wanted. "What do I have to do?" You asked, lacking much enthusiasm.

You couldn't even read his face of any clues that portrayed what he had in mind. "You'll find out soon enough..." He murmured.

"I'm actually quite frightened to know now..." You sighed. He stopped dragging you, letting you fall flat against the wooden floor boards to face the ceiling. He then poked you with his cane, telling you to stand up and follow him, which you reluctantly did.

And then is where a chilling breeze outside met your skin, causing you to shudder. "Why are we outside?" You complained again. Your complaining might actually cause Achilles a headache, which you didn't mind. 

"Just go do a perimeter check of the area and try  _not_  to annoy any residents, animals, life forms, or anything else you seem to enjoy bothering." Well then. 

"But this Homestead is huge!" You tried finding a way out of this, but it didn't seem to be working.

"You've done this many times." He sighed, most likely disappointed about how idle you could really be.

"Yeah, but not at five in the morning." You returned. Hey, that was actually pretty reasonable.

Achilles showed he thought the contrary by rolling his eyes. Figured as much. "Fine." Your hopes rose. He then shook his head as if he was making a mistake. "Just groom the horses." And the hopes died. 

It didn't really matter anyways. You loved the horses anyway, so it shouldn't be too bad...

_**...... Seven Hours Later ......** _

_**  
**_"Dammit Achilles! When you told me to groom the horses, I expected bonding time with them as well! But _no!_  Your 'favorite' mare decides to release its gas into my face and then  _step_  on me! And what's even better, her ass smells  _horrible_!" You stormed into the manor, covered in mud and other brown things that you were hoping not to explain. You shuddered even at the  _thought_  of it and hoped you would never have to do such a thing ever again. And when you saw a smirk of triumph on Achilles' face, you swore you would have revenge. ' _He planned this out, didn't he? That sneaky bastard!''_  was all you thought.

"It's not my fault the horse don't fancy you." He said simply, taking a sip of tea.

You opened your mouth to say something, but ceased and decided to let it go. For once. "Whatever. I'm just going to take a  _long_ , hot bath." 

And so you ran upstairs like there was no tomorrow, desperately wanting to rid of the smell.

_**~Meanwhile~** _

_**  
**_There was a knock on the door.

Achilles stood up from his chair, pondering over who it could've been. It could be anyone in this case. His age prevented him from walking any faster than he was now, the door being a few feet away.

The stranger knocked again.

 _'A bit impatient, are we now?'_  He thought. He was already at the door and opened it, rather reluctantly.

"What?" That was the first thing he had said. He didn't even see the person's face yet, and that's what he had said. Rather straightforward. 

The door revealed a young boy, aged an adolescent most likely. However, his appearance clearly showed he was a Native. He was equipped only with a bow, a quiver with a few arrows, and a stone tomahawk which hung at his waist.

"Um.. I.. I was told you could train me." He said, a bit shaky.

"No." Achilles closed the door without a second thought. You were quite enough already. Hell, he could hardly handle you. So, that was not a hard choice for him at all.

Achilles could sense the boy was still there. Indeed, another knock on the door had proved so.

"Go away!" He was beginning to grow a bit annoyed. No, he was beginning to grow  _more_  than a bit.

"I'm not leaving!" Well he was persistent.

Achilles decided to ignore the boy, and carry on with whatever he was doing before. Since nothing else had happened- no more knocks, shouts- he knew the boy had left.

And that cues where you finish your bath. You decide to take a quick little nap before dinner. You plopped yourself onto the bed, the feel of soft mattress never feeling so good before. You had quickly forgotten about the horse incident, and found yourself sleeping to the next day.

.....

Since you had slept so early yesterday, you had woken up early as well. About seven in the morning, perhaps? Anyways, you were feeling the mood for some fresh air, and so you quickly slipped on a hidden blade, grabbed a pistol, and left the manor to go hunting.

An hour or two later, Achilles woke up to the sound of knocking. Again. He groaned and walked to the window and pulled it up, leaning against it.

He heard the boy say, "Please, all I ask is a moment of your time."

"I apologize if I've been unclear - or otherwise confused you with my words. It was never my intention to mislead. So let me try to clarify. Get the hell off my land!" There goes Achilles being candid once more.

He shut the window loudly, and shook his head when he heard the boy shout, "I'm coming up!"

Achilles was irritated. He walked through the second floor to hear the door from the balcony being shook.

"Just hear me out?! What are you so afraid of?"

Achilles opened the door quickly, not caring if the boy was still holding on to the knob and would fall over.

"Afraid? You think I'm afraid of  _anything_ , least of all, a self-important little scab like you?!" He took his cane and tripped the boy from under his feet. He took his cane and held it against his neck, causing him to raise his hands in defense. "Oh, you might dream of being a hero. Of riding to rescues, of saving the world - but stay this course, and the only thing you're gonna be is  _dead_." He finished, tapping him with his cane then letting him off. "The world's moved on, boy. Best you do too." Achilles walked away from the boy and shut the door behind him after entering the house.

"I will not leave! Do you hear me?! I am  _never_  leaving!"

Achilles sighed. This was going to be more trouble than he thought. When he turned around, he saw you in the room. Good, it seemed as if you just entered.

"What was that about?" You asked, slightly curious.

"Nothing." He waved you off. 

Somehow, you knew that it wasn't actually "nothing". There was something going on, and you were determined to find out. Well, first you have to enjoy the rabbit you hunted.


	5. Remembrance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OHMIGOSH. GUESS WHO YOU FINALLY ACTUALLY GET TO MEET?! SDJHFISDHKADAD Haha.... Ignore that... o________o It's a kinda long intro without you in it but I swear! Things will happen! >_>
> 
> WHOA. THE TITLE'S THE SAME AS THE CHAPTER NAME. I BET YOU DIDN'T SEE THAT COMING. MWUAHAHAHA.
> 
> Enjoy~ ^_^
> 
> \-----
> 
>  
> 
> **Extra Note: I first wrote this story and the Author's Notes a couple years back, so it's a little... Eh. XD I cringe at all my old stories.**

It was night time, and you were now sleeping as if you had just ran a marathon. The young native boy that had attempted to get Achilles to train him had retired to the stables for the night. He had already began to sleep against the cold, hard ground matted with straws of hay. He was awoken by the claps of lightning from the outside (and was thankful he had shelter) and the sound of footsteps arriving closer to his location. The thunder continued to roar as he lifted his head from the ground to see the outside, pouring with rain and sudden flashes illuminating the area. And he did see the two men that he had heard passing by the stables he was in. That had caused him to get on his feet and figure out who they were by walking a bit closer.

It wasn't like he knew they were bandits or some other type of problem makers. He still wasn't  _entirely_  used to the Europeans that had colonized on this land. He only had a bad impression of them at first because of Charles Lee. 

"He's a square toes - this'll be easy." He heard one of the men say.

"That's what you said last time and I wound up with a dead 'orse an a dark eye." The other man retorted.

"Who are you?" The boy asked, not evening caring that they were armed. The men turned to see the young native and began to come closer to him, showing threat.

"No one you need to concern yourself with, little breeches."

"Best cut 'fore something bad 'appens."

"No," was all the boy said. The two men looked at each other, then raised their arms in a fighting stance.

"Can't say we didn't warn ya."

The boy also raised his arms in response. The men decided to unsheathe their blades and slash at him. He quickly took his tomahawk to deflect any incoming attacks, then countering with three chops to the skull. The other man came at his blind side, but he had sensed it before the man could do any harm, and plunged the tomahawk in between the clavicle, then throwing the man overhead and onto the ground in front of him. More men started to arrive, attracted by the clash of blades and screams of pain. He killed the first man by slashing him across the face, deflecting other muskets with the tomahawk. 

"Hah! Look at the savage dance!" He heard one of the men say. 

He continued to fight off the men, while they scoffed merciless insults, hoping it would make them feel better. 

"Songs and spirits can't save ya now!"

"Shoulda run when you had the chance.."

There were about eight or so men, although it didn't stop him. He flipped those from behind forward, and tripped those to the side so they fell and were vulnerable to a chop onto their chests. And then there was only one left. The boy did not kill him. He simple pinned him onto the ground. "Why are you here? What do you want?"

"Best ask the bossman." The man replied. The boy was about to ask who that might've been, until a club had met his face, throwing him to the side. It was another man, supposedly the "bossman". He had stepped over the boy, pointing the club at his face.

"You workin' for the old man, then? That it?" He said, ready to pounce on him after he answered.

The boy hadn't noticed Achilles Davenport, who had just came behind one of the "bossman's" men and murdered him easily. The man he had killed omitted a yelp or any shouts that would alert the other man. The blade was too sudden for that.

"Maybe this'll get ya talkin'." The man started threatened the boy, until he saw Achilles himself take the man from behind and stabbed him before he could do any damage to the worn out boy. Achilles had tossed the corpse to the side, then helping the boy up on his feet.

"Thank you." The boy said, a little out of breath.

"Clean this up." The boy nodded, bending down to pick up one of the corpses. "Then, I suppose we shall talk..."

...

Achilles walked through the manor, to find you in the kitchen, apparently munching down on grilled rabbit..... 

"What? I'm hungry!" You said in response to the look he gave you. He shook his head, and motioned his hand for you to follow him. You reluctantly stood up and did so, following him into one of the rooms. 

"What do you want, old man?" You sighed, your stomach still growling.

"Just sit and try not to be a bother." He sat on one of the chairs, leaning against his cane, while you plopped onto the floor next to him, staring at the other chair. You just didn't trust it.. It seemed suspicious...... 

 Soon after, the boy had entered the room. You lifted an eyebrow at Achilles, who, apparently, ignored you. Well then. 

You were just about to say something when the boy was about to sit on the chair, but it was too late. The wooden chair broke into pieces, right under him. The temptation of laughing was hard to ignore, and so you ended up doing it. The boy looked at you weirdly when he stood up, and then shook his head.

"Sorry." He said.

"Not your fault. This whole place is ready to come down. Goddamn miracle it hasn't already. Anyway, who are you?" Achilles said. 

You were bored, and leaned your chin against your hand, with a book you grabbed from against the wall in your other hand.

"My name is Ratonhnhaké:ton."

You froze. This was they boy you had became friends with when you were younger..? This was Ratonhnhaké:ton, the only one of the Kanien'kehá:ka who trusted you. You didn't want to say anything at the moment, since Achilles probably had some important things to say, since he dragged your arse down here.

"Right. Well, I'm not even going to try and pronounce that." Achilles said. "Now tell me why you're here."

Ratonhnhaké:ton took out a worn piece of paper, and showed it to Achilles. "I was told to seek this symbol." You looked over Achilles shoulder, lifting your eyebrow a bit. It was the insignia.

"Do you even know what that symbol represents? Or what it is you're asking for?"

"No."

"And yet here you are."

"The spirit said that - That I've-"

"These "spirits" of yours have been harassing the Assassins for centuries. Ever since Ezio uncorked the bottle... Ah- but you don't even know what an Assassin is, do you?"

Ratonhnhaké:ton shook his head a bit.

"Well best settle in, then. I've got a story to tell and it's gonna take a while to get it all out.." Achilles shifted in his seat, while Ratonhnhaké:ton grabbed another chair and sat on it. You leaned back onto the floor, knowing you've heard the story probably  _thousands_  of times already. Achilles told Ratonhnhaké:ton of the conflict between Templars and Assassins. Because you've already heard it, you fell asleep for a bit. Ratonhnhaké:ton will have to wait.

......

"... and so this is why the Assassins have dedicated themselves to the pursuit of the Templars. Because if they succeed- your spirit's visions will become reality." Ratonhnhaké:ton stood up once Achilles had finished, causing your eyes to slowly open.

"Then I will stop them."

"Oh I have no doubt you'll try. Come on. I've something to show you." Achilles stood up as well, causing you to do the same. 

You knew he was taking him to the hidden room in the basement. So you just followed, while listening to their conversation.

"Careful. Wasn't a joke when I said this place was coming apart."

"Why don't you repair it?"

"What's the point? Besides I don't have materials for the job."

"So buy them."

Achilles started to laugh lightly. "Look at me! You think I can just march into some store, purse full of pounds, and go shopping?"

"Yes. Why not?" You almost slapped yourself.

"So naive..." Achilles pulled down the candlestick which hung from the wall near the kitchen, and pushed a "door" open from the wall next to him. "This way." 

You followed them down the stairs. Achilles walked over to a table, while Ratonhnhaké:ton wandered off to examine the Assassin's Robes displayed in the center of the room. He bent down to pick up a box laying in front of the garments, but Achilles had hit him with his cane before he could.

"Don't think you can just come in here, throw those on and call yourself an Assassin." He scolded.

"I.. did not... I would never presume."

"That's alright. I know they've a certain allure." Achilles said behind Ratonhnhaké:ton. "Very well, I'll train you. Then I'll know if you've the right to wear those robes.." He turned to face Achilles.

"Thank you.. uh.."

"Name's Achilles." He introduced. He gave a short nod, and turned. They walked over to a table in front of a boarded up wall. "Come on, then. We've work to do." He used his cane to point at the boards, and gestured for Ratonhnhaké:ton to take it down. He did so, revealing the wall of portraits of important Templar leaders in the colonies. You watched him stare at the portraits of Charles Lee, and the one of Haytham Kenway. 

"What do the Templars want?"

"What they've always wanted: Control. They see an opportunity in the colonies. A chance for new beginnings, unfettered by the chaos of the past. This is why they back the British. Here they have a chance to illustrate the merits of their beliefs. A people in service to the principles of order and structure."

"I have seen what is to come if they succeed." Ratonhnhaké:ton said, as your mind raced back to the burning of Kanatahséton. "They have to die, don't they? All of them. Even my father." It pained you a bit to hear a son say that about his father, but you knew it was true.

"Especially your father. He's the one holding the whole thing together." Achilles said, looking at the Haytham portrait as well.

"Well I'm off to get some shut-eye now. Try not to break anything." He brushed you both off, and went upstairs, leaving the two of you.

Ratonhnhaké:ton had turned to face you, expecting an introduction or something. "Ratonhnhaké:ton, eh?" You said. You were going to pretend as if you've never met him for a bit. 

He looked fairly surprised that you pronounced his name so easily and fluently. "Yes. And you?"

You decide it would be more amusing to see the look on his face when you tell him your name. "It's [Name] Davenport." You smirked a bit, although not enough for him to notice. You saw that his eyes widened a bit.

".. [Name]....?"  

You laughed lightly and then smiled warmly. "Hey, it's been a while." 


	6. Hunt

Ratonhnhaké:ton smiled. "Yes, it has."

You grinned in response, but then put your hands on your hips, pretending to be cross. "You didn't remember me, didn't you?" You tried not to laugh. "You just looked at me like I was some weird girl Achilles had adopted, right?"

"T-That's not entirely true...!" He looked ashamed.

"I'm only messing with you a bit, Skipper." You winked, hit him lightly on the back and laughed. It was rather fun to mess with him, you supposed. As he said nothing, he was most likely taken aback by the nickname. You had poked your own cheek a few times, waiting for him to say anything at all until you got quite bored. "Whelp, I'm going to bed, Hotshot. See ya tomorrow, I suppose?" You waved him off, walking up the stairs.

Ratonhnhaké:ton shrugged. He figured that he would talk to you about everything tomorrow morning. He had other things to do first. First of all, where would he sleep..? Achilles nor you hadn't told him anything.. He looked up the stairs but you were already gone. Floor it is.... He groaned. He would never presume to sleep in a bed he did not know belonged to..

.....~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~.....

"Ratonhnhaké:ton!" You shouted, looking into a bedroom. He wasn't there, and so you shrugged.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton!" You looked into another one. Still nothing. You blinked, and then scouted every single room. Nothing. The only place left though was the basement but you didn't think he was that dumb enough to think he would sleep there. Anyways, it's not like the other bedrooms were owned by anyone. No one else lives here. So you assumed he was outside. Perhaps, getting use to the Homestead, looking at the horses, getting mauled by a bear... Oh, the possibilities were endless. You quickly ran to your room and slipped on both hidden blade bracers. You then ran out, shouting, "I'm gonna go out and ride Frost!" to Achilles. Frost was the name of your horse. Hence the name, she was a white mare with a silver mane. To you, she was the most beautiful creature.. And she loved you back as well. The bond between the two of you was unbreakable.  

 

You sprinted along the grass, your feet creating a crunching sound against foliage. When you spotted the stables, you slowed to a walk, and then headed towards your horse. "Hey, girl." You smiled, grooming her mane with your hands.

..~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~..

_"[Name]! I have a surprise for you." Achilles suddenly said at the table._

_You looked up from your spoon of chocolate cake, tilting your head with a raised eyebrow. "I'm a little busy....?" You said, mouth a bit full._

_"Don't be silly, girl. When you're finished." He brushed you off and then left to go outside, leaving you with your cake slice. You were a bit curious on what it was he was 'surprising' you with. So, you slid the spoon in your mouth and then placed it on the plate. Then, you followed Achilles out of the manor while chewing the chocolaty goodness. When you saw him out the door, he motioned for you to follow him. You followed him all the way to the stables, but when you got there, you froze. It was a horse you've never seen in the homestead before, coat white as the snow and a silver mane as shiny as metal._

_"[Name], meet Frost."_

_"Oh my! She's so beautiful! Is she mine?" You exclaimed, filled with happiness and the dedication you had in the future for you and the horse. You had ran up to it and stroked its coat._

_"I am entrusting her to you, dear."_

..~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~..

Achilles had acted so much like a father. You needed a proper parent, and Achilles easily qualified for that.

You smiled as you reminisced about those memories. Then you mounted Frost and rode her with a moderate gallop. You spent the morning riding her and ceased in about two hours. You had no idea that Ratonhnhaké:ton was still asleep in the basement of the manor either...

.~~.~~.~~.~~.~~.~~.~~.~~.

"Wake.. Up... DAMMIT!" You whacked Ratonhnhaké:ton on the head with a frying pan. He suddenly jerked up, taken rather aback on what had just happened.

When he had saw that it was you, arms on hips and everything, he asked, "What?" You felt an urge to hit him again but restrained yourself. "Is there something wrong, [Name]?"

You shook your head, grabbing the hem of his collar, and dragging him up the stairs. You'd admit he was rather heavier than you thought. "Okay, first of all, I hit you with a metal pan and yet you seem like nothing had happened...?! You slept in the basement, on the floor. It's almost noon! What the hell, Ratonhnhaké:ton? You need to do your part here as well. Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I have to all the housework, you lazy arse!"

"I'm sorry...?" He murmured, still half-awake. You dropped him on the wooden floorboards and covered your face with your hand in annoyance. Oh well, couldn't help it, you supposed.

Achilles appeared in the room, saying, "It's quite alright, [Name]. You both can go hunting for today. I'll take care of all the little things." You brought your hand out of your face.

"You sure, old man?" You tilted your head while Ratonhnhaké:ton stood up.

"I'll make an exception for today. Just try and get along with each other. Please, [Name]. I can barely handle you. Handling two children that are constantly fighting will be the death of me." He shivered at the thought, while poking you both with his cane, which was his way of saying "get out now, please". You grabbed your bow on the way.

He quickly closed the door behind you both as if he wanted the alone time as soon as possible. Whatever that meant. You started walking towards the stables to fetch Frost, and Ratonhnhaké:ton had no other choice but to follow. As you got to the stables and climbed atop your mare, something had just occurred to your mind.

"Whelp, Skipper, seems like I have no horse for you.. Don't get the wrong idea now.. It's not like I don't trust you or anything... Anyways, just climb on behind me. Frost won't bite." You stuck your tongue out at him. He did as you said, climbing as if he would harm the horse in a slight wrong move.

As Frost began to move due to your command, you felt Ratonhnhaké:ton shift uncomfortably behind you.

You sighed. "You know, Skipper, if you don't man up and just hold on to me, you're gonna fall off."

"Uh huh...." He slipped his sturdy arms around your waist, rather timidly. You hate to admit it, but his presence was somewhat comforting. 

You rode to a familiar area, the place where Achilles had found you. You knew it was a good hunting place because you remembered that was where you kept getting attacked by wolves, bears, other hostile animals. Oh, good times. Luckily Achilles had saved you before a wolf could rip your throat out. 

You dismounted off the horse, Ratonhnhaké:ton following. You grabbed your bow and took out an arrow.  _This is going  to be a piece of cake,_ you thought. Although in an hour, you were pissed.

"Why the hell have I not found any elk, rabbits, or deer?!" You complained, falling into a pile of leaves in defeat.

"The animals that live around here are mostly wolves. As you could probably tell from all of the wolf attacks here, this area is densely populated with them. You  _will_  find game here, but not as much as other areas.. Also, we've been circling this same exact tree during the past hour...." 

You looked up at him from the pile and then at the tree. Hm, what do you know? It was a rather big tree, how could you  _not_  get lost? Okay you were being silly. But it was embarrassing to be told how to hunt.  "Well, I see that you're an expert on this stuff, so why don't you take the lead then?" You suggested as you stood and linked elbows with him, dragging him elsewhere.

"Not that way." He corrected.

"Right." You turned to the opposite direction, dragging him some more.

"I can walk on my own.." He murmured. 

"It's more fun this way." You grinned as he shook his head. 

Sooner or later, you spotted a nice, big and plump deer up the hill. You let go of Ratonhnhaké:ton and watched him do his thing. You noticed that he didn't take out any weapons. He crouched slyly in dense shrubs until he was about a foot or so near the deer. He still didn't unsheathe anything, causing you to tilt your head. But then he had suddenly tackled the deer from its blind spot, and somehow killing it with his bare hands. It was too fast for you to see what happened, since being too slow would help it escape his grip. And that told you that you were going to be more successful in hunting with his help. You ran up to him and literally tackled him, pinning him on the ground.

You laughed. "How did you do that?"

He was a taken aback a little, especially of the closeness of you two, but then smiled. "Just be patient, that's all." 

"Easy for you to say." You rolled your eyes playfully and stood up, holding your hand out for him to take. He did so, while you asked, "So, why did you use your hands only, Ace?" 

"Using weapons will only ruin its hide, which means it will ruin its value. You can sell the hide for good money." He explained. "You can also use traps if you want, but it's still going to ruin the skin."

"Your making me sound like I have no idea what I'm doing." You groaned, causing him to shrug. But that was alright. At least you had someone to show you the ropes and share skills and techniques.

The rest of the day was rather interesting.. You were worn out from more hunting, having caught three rabbits, another deer, and another elk. And so a wolf thought it would be  _funny_ to use that against yourself and suddenly lunge at you, pinning you onto the ground. Right when it was about to bite your face off, an arrow had pierced its skull, sending its body off of you. You looked to your left and saw a sideways Ratonhnhaké:ton (sideways from your perspective) only because you were on the ground).  You gave a huge sigh of relief and gave him a genuine and grateful smile, then stood up. 

"I could've handled that on my own." You said.

He shook his head. "Be more careful." He gave you a short pat on the back and walked past you to venture more into the woods. 

And then you had your comeback, when Ratonhnhaké:ton was too busy skinning a fox and a bear decided to creep behind him. You shot an arrow right at its eye and then ran up to it, flicking your wrist so that the hidden blade shone from the sunlight, until it was buried deep in the bear's neck. Just to be safe, you stabbed it again with the arrow in its eye that you had pulled out.

"Hm, wonder what bear tastes like." 

Later, you were finally finished with the day. Perhaps you " _over-hunted_ " however...

"Hmmm.. Three elks, two deer, five rabbit, a couple of wolves- wait I'm not eating wolf so scratch that, uhh bear.. I'm actually kinda curious of what bear tastes like.." You mused. "Probably tastes like chicken."

"I was wondering why you all were taking so long." Achilles had said. "When I said hunting, I meant enough for  _one_  day, not a month.." 

"FEAST!" You shout randomly.

"And for what purpose?" Achilles questioned.

"Because I didn't get killed by a wolf...?" You suggested.

"Do whatever you please." He brushed you off, shaking his head on the way to his room. 

And so, one or two hours later, there was a huge dinner laid across the table. Of course, it still wasn't all of the game. Those elks were fat... 

You and Ratonhnhaké:ton were the only ones there, Achilles probably in his room or something. 

Ratonhnhaké:ton was poking at his food with his fork and you rolled your eyes. "It's not like I poised it or anything. Jeez, I'm not  _that_  evil."

"It's not that.." He said. 

"Then what?"

"I still don't know why you were in our village in the first place. I do not mean that in a rude way. Just, how did you get there?" 

You looked down at the table. "My parents were killed because of the war. My father told me to run, and so I did. And then a couple of the Natives took me in. That's all." You shrugged. 

"Oh.." He said, looking away.

You nodded. "Well, it's alright now. I mean, that was in the past, so all I should be worrying about is the future, right? What really matters is what happens now, and nothing before should affect me." You smiled. He looked at you, and nodded. You looked at the food. Well, it was time to enjoy some food.

You were strong. He admired that about you. You didn't let the past ruin your very being.


	7. Feathers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still trying to build more background knowledge for the reader, akshkaskssajsfjs Yesh, I'm sorry I'm a slow updater :S

_I realize now that it will take time, that the road ahead is long and shrouded in darkness. It is a road that will not always take me where I wish to go - and I doubt I will live to see it end. But I will travel down it nonetheless._

A brief gasp escaped your mouth when you took a step outside, the fresh, crisp snow crunching under your leather boots. The chilled air sent abrupt shivers, but the sights made up for it. The grass was pale, and stiffened with frost; and icicles hung from the balcony above. Once the snow met your nose, it tickled just lightly. Already, your nose and fingertips were just about close to frostbite. The white ash covered the land; everything around hid underneath it. Though the trees bare, the white fluff embellished and enhanced its beauty. It was just about daybreak, the sky a mix of orange and periwinkle.

You wondered what left there was to do as of now. You took care of all of the chores yesterday; cleaning, grooming, surveying, inspecting, hunting, all those wonderful things. There was a reason why you wanted to do them all yesterday, so that no toil was practiced today. Today was the anniversary of your parents' deaths, nine years ago. You had a special grave, or  _shrine_ , as you liked to call it, behind the stables for them. The only thing you had left of them was the silver, thin bracelet that you  _always_  wore no matter what (excluding showers and baths to prevent any rust from the small hints of steel and iron within it). It was from your mother, but it reminded you of both parents, nonetheless. It was only a tiny table with a few candles. But it's always been your own "custom" to find feathers in the trees to add in a small box on the table.

You began to "talk" with your parents. It was sort of an annual update for them, you supposed. It was to let them know how you were doing, and it always seemed to make you feel so much better. Even if it wasn't today, you would still come here when in doubt, depression, anger, or anything else similar. It had always comforted you.

"Hey, Mother, Father." You smiled. "Things have been going great, I suppose. Well, Ratonhnhaké:ton has found me, if you consider that a good thing." You gave a light laugh. "Hunting is still fun, but you can stop worrying since I'm not alone this time. I know I do risky things a lot, but I know what I'm doing..! .. I think." You smiled again. "I promise, I'll stay safe, and I know you'll look after me, right?" It was getting rather hard not to cry. "I wonder, if you were still alive.. Would you be proud of who I grew up to be?" You couldn't stop one tear that rolled down your face. "I promise, I'll behave. I'll try! I'll do my best!" You were trying to say things that would cheer you up, but it was somewhat difficult. You really wished your Mother and Father lived to see you today- to see what young lady you've become. Of course, you weren't the ideal daughter for those of richer and higher standards, but it didn't matter. If your parents were proud of you, then you were content with only that. And judging by the memories that you had of them (memories rather hard to acquire due to how long ago they were), they loved you very much.

So far, you had five (spending four years at Kanatahséton, and then this being your sixth year at the Homestead). Of course, you'd have to obtain the sixth one today. It shouldn't be too hard, since climbing trees has been a hobby of yours. It's not like you were an expert though; you would have the occasional "mishap" where you tripped on a branch, falling and then the branch catches your clothes. That may seem fortunate, however it always ended up being that your clothes ripped. 

So hopefully, these accidents would not repeat this year. 

You had hoped that, but of course, the opposite would happen. But only because you had hoped.

You trembled slightly, freezing winds brushing across your face. But it didn't matter. Your top priority was to find a way to latch onto a tree and climb up onto one of the branches so that you could travel faster. Once you had found a bare oak with stubby branches pointing from its trunk, you had used those branches to grab onto, pulling yourself onto a much stronger and longer branch a few feet up in the air. You jumped from branch to branch, you heart skipping a beat every time you heard a  _crunch_  sound underneath your weight. But you had simply ignored it and moved onto the next tree, knowing that staying too long on a much weaker one would result in descent. You kept your balance on the rather extended and long branches, careful not to misplace foot. You traveled from tree to tree, in attempt to find one single feather. It was much more difficult than you had thought. The snow had covered much of the branches, maybe even covering a feather. But you wanted to find one that was recently shed, fresh from  _alive_  creature. 

And of course, that was when you had spotted one on a smaller branch, a few trees away, and two feet higher from your elevation. With your luck, you were expected to drop in any second. But this day, you placed foot by foot as if you had been doing it all your life, which was partially true. Then you had reached the tree where the feather was placed upon, placing your foot on one of the little branches for weight support, and then grabbed the branch above your head, pulling yourself onto it with all arm strength you could possibly use. When you successfully had made it onto the branch, you didn't stand- only in a crouching position which would help you grip onto things while in uncertainty. You crept towards the wispy feather, and knew not to extend your hand outwards until you were close enough. You heard a crack from the wood underneath.

Luck had instantly vanished.

The branch had snapped right under your weight, causing the feather to drift downwards, and yourself to plummet down below. Right before, just when the crack was heard, you instantly reached out for it, but you now know how that turned out. You were about twenty feet above air, and falling, you knew that when you made contact with the ground, it would not be pleasant. Except you didn't meet the ground. You found yourself fall into the arms of a person. Looking up and locking eyes with the person who had miraculously caught you, you blinked once, still trying to catch up on what had recently happened.

"[Name]...?" He started. "What are you doing here?"

You rolled your eyes, in that playfully trademark manner. "I could ask you the same, Skipper." 

"I was only familiarizing myself with this land some more."

"Boring." You yawned. "Why don't you start that training of yours, Hotshot?"

"Achilles said I'd start tomorrow." He started, setting you down on your feet. "I also heard him saying that you were to partake as well...?"

You groaned. "Why?" You complained. "Don't I already have enough things going on?"

"Based on his plans, probably not." You ignored that statement. "So, tell me why you are here."

"I was admiring the sights." You said blankly. It wasn't a complete lie, to be honest. You did love the way the Homestead looked during winter.

"I don't believe you."

Dammit. "Well, fine then. If you don't, then so be it." You began to walk off, at the same time, looking for the feather that had floated down. But he had stopped you, grabbing your arm, preventing you from moving any further.

 "[Name]...."

"What?" You turned, facing him with annoyed expression.

 "Just tell me." His voice was firm but also rather gentle.

 You sighed, relaxing your shoulders a bit. There was no point in arguing, you supposed. "Today is the, er, anniversary of my parents' deaths." You said with an attempted casualness.  
  
"Oh." You shrugged in response. You weren't a baby, so you weren't going to cry about it now. "Why where you here then?"  
  
"Well, you see," You started, twiddling thumbs. "It's been a thing where I collect feathers each year for them. I dunno why, probably good luck, I guess."  
  
"I see." He said, something on his mind.  
  
"What's up, Hotshot? Somethin' in that small brain of yours that's botherin' ya?" You teased him.  
  
He ignored your second question. Or so it seemed. "Do you want me to help? Because by the looks of it, you're not doing so well." Damn...  
  
"Oh and so you think you're better, do you?" You challenged.  
  
"Somewhat."  
  
You put one hand on your hip. "Fine then. How about whoever finds a feather first and brings it back to the Stables wins?"  
  
"Why the stables, and wins what?"  
  
"Jeez, all these questions." You complained.  
  
"Just go to the stables because I said so. And hm, loser has to do whatever the winner wants." You said, in the Kanien'kehá:ka language, showing that you weren't completely oblivious when it came to knowing about him.  
  
"Okay." He replied, in the same language.  
  
"Oh! There's a time limit also." You grinned while he rolled his eyes. "A half hour. Even if you have no feathers, you must return to the stables after the time runs out."

"Very well then."

"'Kay, see you in a half hour then!" You said in English, running up to a tree. You didn't look back at him, because you knew he most likely already had left. Truth was, you didn't even know why you were doing this. Your luck at trees made this almost impossible, but it's always okay to give it a shot, right? You shook your head at your thoughts and concentrated on balancing on the branches. Now, you thought about where the feathers would usually be located. Which was difficult. The best thing you could do was keep jumping from tree to tree, hoping that there would be one there... Pure luck was what you were hoping for. Although..... Twenty trees later, you finally found a nest perched upon a branch above your head. You pulled yourself up onto the branch and gave a happy, triumphant sigh of relief. There was a feather. You crept slowly towards it, careful with your steps, and when closer, reached to grab it. But suddenly, you saw flapping wings, and immediately you had grabbed onto the branch, preventing yourself from being startled. It was an eagle, supposedly the owner of the nest. Seems as if it were trying to protect its eggs, seeing as it started pecking at your skin. It wasn't much of a threat at first, however, a bit later, you noticed blood trickling down your cheeks. It didn't really hurt, but you didn't want Achilles ranting about how stupid you were about this. You tried your best to ignore its pecks and wings in your face as you came closer to the nest, and reached for the feather. You quickly grabbed it and loudly sighed in relief. You looked down below and smiled gratefully, purposely jumping down from the branch into the snow pile below. And because of that, the bird has calmed and perched itself atop its nest, knowing its eggs were safe, as of now. But all the wing flapping had caused two of its feathers to land on your face, making you laugh happily. You had three. More than enough. You stood up from the ground and patted and brushed away snow and invisible dust, then tucking the feathers in your satchel. You whistled loudly, and about a minute later, Frost had appeared, and you climbed up on her, heading towards the stables. About twenty-five minutes had passed since you challenged Ratonhnhaké:ton. By the time you got there, the time would be up.

Later, you had finally arrived at the stables, to find Ratonhnhaké:ton already sitting on a stump..... You cursed to yourself. But you had three, right? That ought to get you to win.  
  
You leapt off of Frost and made your ways towards him. When you were close enough, you crouched in front of him, holding your three feathers with a grin.  
  
"How about that, eh? You thought I couldn't do it, didn't ya?" You actually felt like you beat him, for once.  
  
He held out one feather, and said, "I have one." You almost laughed, but..... "I also got these eight, just in case I ever return to the village." He pulled out eight more feathers, causing your jaw to drop to the floor.  
  
W-When did you get back here?" You stuttered.  
  
"About ten minutes ago."  
  
"Dammit.." You muttered. You then shook your head. You shouldn't be mad at him. He was kind enough to help you acquire them, which you could barely have done yourself. Hell, you think if he hadn't caused you to challenge him like that, you wouldn't have gotten those three feathers in the first place. "Hey, follow me." You grabbed his nine feathers and waved him over as you walked behind the stables. You knelt down in front of the "shrine" and took the box, opening it and revealing five feathers as you felt Ratonhnhaké:ton's presence over your shoulder. You only placed one of the twelve feathers you and him had collected in the box, then closed it. It had been a tradition to place one a year, and will always be. You placed the box back onto the table and stood up, linking arms with him and dragging him towards the manor. At least you wouldn't have to climb for more for the next eleven years.  
  
"And so, since you won, Ratonhnhaké:ton, whatever you ask of me, I shall do."  
  
"I really have nothing to ask as of now, and probably nothing of the future."  
  
You both were in front of the door, with you knocking, waiting for Achilles to open it.  
  
"Oh, so you don't want me to become your personal slave?"  
  
"I can do things on my own."  
  
"I see." You said, crossing your arms, "So what other reward would fit your standards better?"  
  
"I don't know, nor do I care." He said simply.  
  
You laughed lightly. When the door opened, you gave a quick peck on his cheek, and then ran past Achilles up to your room.  
  
Achilles stared at Ratonhnhaké:ton questioningly. The young native shrugged. He was just as confused as Achilles.  
  
 _~The next morning~_  
  
"Alright [Name], now it's time for you to get off  _your_ 'lazy butt'." 

You lifted one eye, only to see Achilles above your head. "Hey.." You said rather lazily. "How's it going, old man? Fine weather we be havin', eh?" You slurred your speech as if you had just drank. Not that you actually did, of course. You were just worn out from all the tree climbing.

"[Name]...." 

You sat up and rubbed your eyes. "What?"

"What was that last afternoon?" 

"What was what?"

"You know.."

"I know what?" He looked annoyed, so you thought about everything that had happened yesterday. "Oh. Yeah, just his 'reward'." You said, yawning.

"Reward for what?"

"Man, what is with all these questions today? I challenged him, and he beat me. It's as simple as that."

"I see..." He really didn't. You were making little sense to him. "Well, come downstairs for breakfast when you're ready. Training starts right after." He turned to leave.

"Achilles.." You groaned in annoyance.

"What is it?"

"Why do I have to help him?" You complained. 

"Because. Now that is all." Dammit. You didn't want to act as a babysitter for Ratonhnhaké:ton.

"But-"

"That is all." He cut you off, and then left your room, leaving you to fall back onto your bed with an exaggerated sigh. 

_~Later~_

"Now then! Skipper, old man, what have we got for me to munch on this mornin'?" You said enthusiastically when walking into the dining room. 

Ratonhnhaké:ton blinked. You both locked gazes for a few seconds until you rolled your eyes. "You know, I'm not a display, so go cast your eyes somewhere else." You said, causing him to slightly redden.

"It's not like that!"

You started laughing. "You should really learn how to take a joke, Ace." You pulled out a seat and sat in it. 

"Well you're the one who  _kissed_  me, I would not be talking."

You flushed red. "It was a thanks, and probably the  _only_  thanks you'll ever get!"

You sighed and leaned back into the wooden chair. You both were acting like kids. 

"That's enough, [Name]. Leave the poor boy alone." Achilles said, causing you to roll your eyes. 

"Hurry and eat, both of you. Then we start training."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM A LOBCOCK FOR THIS. I've been making the reader call him skipper this whole time, but he has never seen nor captained the Aquila yet... And so I make my excuse here in this chapter. Because in the Naval Missions, they kept calling him skipper...! And.. I thought... I am an idiot -.- I then realized why no one else except his crew called him that. 
> 
> Plus, if you want lots of background knowledge of our dear Haytham, you must buy the Assassin's Creed book by Oliver Bowden, Forsaken! I cannot put it down! Damn that sassy Londoner; sophisticated way too sophisticated like gosh stop being so bloody sophisticated.
> 
> And I'm sorry. I swear, this is way too kiddish for my taste. DX Things will become more serious, I promise..... o.o
> 
> **^Oh gosh, my old Author's Notes are completely embarassing.^**

"[Name], watch out!" Ratonhnhaké:ton called out. 

"I know what I'm doing!" You shouted back.

"Bloody hell.." You cursed. You seized hold of the rocky, smooth edges as tight as you can. You strived to not look at the ground below, being over one-hundred feet up on a cliff face, situated not too far from the manor. You weren't as experienced in climbing like the young Mohawk.

Your endurance- splendid. Your wits? Tolerable. Tactics? Fair enough. Strength?  _Needs improvement._  

"You've got to get used to scaling landforms and buildings such as this!" Achilles had shouted. 

"I get it!" You replied in an annoyed tone. Since when had this become  _your_  training? Was this not supposed to be for Ratonhnhaké:ton? You made sure to place your feet in the right places, checking to see if they were stable enough. The melting snow was not making your grip easier. In fact, the water running down the cliff was going to be the reason why you fall. You concentrated on using your arm and leg strength to bring yourself to the top, knowing that it would show that old man that you were  _perfectly_  capable. You reached your right arm to grab a ledge poking out of the cliff face. However the outcome was not what you had expected or hoped for. That ledge had broke under your grip, causing you to hang by only one hand.  _Dammit!_  You thought. You looked down and saw the pieces of stone shatter next to Ratonhnhaké:ton. 

"Oops!" You shouted, in a semi-apologetic tone. 

"Be careful!" Both of them said at the same time, while you used your remaining vigor to reach your hand up to hold onto a more durable ledge. You sighed. You knew that if you didn't hurry, you were going to wear yourself out before you made it to the top. And so, you took a deep breath, braced yourself, and climbed smoothly to the top, grabbing those that you knew would not break. You had to admit, Ratonhnhaké:ton made this look  _way_  too easy. Perhaps you did need the training after all. But you were still competent and able- today was just not your day. Before you knew it, you had finally reached the top of the cliff, pulling yourself up and rolling onto your back once there. You took a deep breath, knowing that you could have fallen to your death just now, if you hadn't the will to pull yourself up. You then stood up, stretching tense muscles and then feeling as good as new once again. 

"[Name]" You heard Ratonhnhaké:ton call out. You walked closer to the edge and bent down when you could see him and Achilles. "Jump back down!"

You looked beside them to see a pile of foliage, leaves, and sticks. You peered over at it and shook your head ferociously. First of all, you do jump from high places- just not from structures over a hundred-fifty feet tall.... Second, it looks like those sticks might stab you when you fall, since it's so high up here. Third, you can tell Achilles was making that malicious face he always did when trying to deceive you into something. Okay, the third you just made up... Anyways, you weren't going to do this so easily. And so you decided...

"No!" You yelled. "I don't trust you  _and_  your bloody arse, old man!"

Achilles put his hand on his chin, thinking of things he could use against you, which would bring you down. Ratonhnhaké:ton looked at him with expectancy, while you stuck your tongue out at the both of them. "[Name], if you don't come down here with the safety of the two of us, you will get mauled by a bear!"

You yawned, rolling onto your back. "Okay. Sounds good to me, ya ole chaps."

Achilles groaned. "I will get you tons of feathers."

"Ratonhnhaké:ton's got that taken care of." 

"Tons of cake?"

"I'm on a diet." You lied.

"Tons of coffee?"

"Am I not hyper enough for you already?" You took out a canteen of water and drank some, the taste of water never tasting better. Which was rather weird.

"The boy's virginity?"

You spat out your water (which you had also almost choked on) and coughed unpleasantly. "Dammit Achilles! You almost made me choke on damn water! And what the hell kind of man are you, offering something like that to a  _thirteen_  year old?! You are disgusting!" You shouted loudly. 

Ratonhnhaké:ton stood there, flushed with a deep red color, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"Okay, you got me, old man. Ratonhnhaké:ton's face is too priceless." You said, performing a Leap of Faith into the pile below. "But I'll have to decline that offer before, thanks." 

"You did that like it was no big deal.... Yet you seemed afraid a while ago.." Ratonhnhaké:ton murmured, his face still a bit red.

"I'm a great actor, ain't I?" You grinned.

 "Yeah....  _Sure_..." You folded your arms at his response.

"What's next, 'chilles?" You stretched your arms again, perhaps in a way to ready yourself for whatever the old man was planning.

"Self defense, combat, reflexes; many things you seem to forget." He said simply. Whatever that had meant.

"Well then."

You had then found yourself at the stables, with Achilles and Ratonhnhaké:ton. The old man had instructed him to grab you as if you were taken hostage. And then he had challenged you to find a way out of the boy's grasp in less than ten seconds. For the first position, he had you by your arms behind your back, his hands gripping your wrists tightly. You knew exactly what to do. You spun forcefully, then kicking him in his crotch. That..... was a joke. You _actually_  whirled around which had caused his hands to slip off of your wrists. All of a matter of.. Well, finding an uncomfortable way - this being tangled arms.

"Come on, Skipper! Gimme all ya got! Don't hold back because I'm a girl!" You playfully shoved him.

"That was actually quite lame, boy." Achilles mentioned. "But, obviously [Name] has shown that she is capable of those kinds of situations.. Just barely, but it will do for now." You rolled your eyes. "And so I now call for the two of you to have a fist fight."

You stared at the old man blankly. "....... What?"

"Obviously not a real one. Because I know that both of you could evade well, and so you wouldn't have to hold back. Just do something that would help you both adapt to each others' fighting skills." You knew that Achilles was glad having the two of you instead of just one, because he could use the both of you to train each other, while he gave instruction.  _Obviously the old hermit was too lazy to do things on his own_ , you thought.

"Bring it on then, Skipper!" You cracked your knuckles.

"Just a question..." He asked. "Why do you call me that?"

"Hm, I dunno." You said simply, humming. It's true.. You really didn't. It's not like he captained a ship or anything... Odd.

You raised you arms in a fighting stance and then smirked. He followed your actions, and you cocked your head slightly to one side to rather..  _solicit_  about who would make the first move. Then when he showed that he clearly was going to let you go first, you managed to sweep your foot to trip him. But he had quickly recovered and was back on his feet in no time. You then attempted to elbow him into the ribs but he had caught both your elbows in his hands. He slid his hands up your arms and then flipped you onto your back.

As your back made contact with the firm ground, you let out a growl of brief pain. Your view only consisted of the blue sky and fluffy white clouds that enhanced its peaceful looks. You had no will nor time to turn your head. He walked over to you, as you could tell from his footsteps. He had then straddled you, making sure you could not get off the ground. He had you pinned, and you squirmed to escape out of his confinement. Which you had miserably failed. You stared into his chocolate eyes with semi-hatred. He had beaten you so easily. He smiled at you in a friendly manner, not caring about the death glares you were shooting him with. He stood up, offering a hand which you had profoundly refused. He shrugged as you stood up by yourself, then patting dirt from your trousers.

Amused, Achilles had said, "You cannot hope to win with such confidence, but little experience, [Name]." He added a light chuckle.

"I apologize if I have harmed you in any way, [Name]." Ratonhnhaké:ton added, with such innocence that you persisted yourself to ignore.

And so you did. You yawned loudly as if they were simply boring the life out of you and started to walk off. You'd probably have more fun harassing beavers.

Achilles shook his head while you left, causing Ratonhnhaké:ton to smile curiously.

"Was she always this oblivious and reckless?" He sighed.

"She has her ways, I suppose. It surprises me at times. But her uncanny ideas are not worthless."

Achilles could only smile and nod. Perhaps the young Mohawk knew more about you than he did.

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

After today's training, you had sat behind the desk which held the accounting book and took care of all the funds and trading for today. You pursed your lips, then frowned. Weren't making much of a profit. Sooner or later, you would have to help this homestead grow and prosper. But for now, it would have to remain as it is. After much thought about what actions that would be useful to the homestead, you retired to your room for the day.

You stared at your dark, unlit ceiling for quite a while. Technically, you were an Assassin, being inducted two years ago. But how was it that your Mohawk friend was more skilled than you? You sighed, blowing out a candle, then shifted in your bed comfortably.

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

The morning after, you had woken rather reluctantly, when bits of sunlight seeped through the slits of your window. You sighed, sitting up and rubbing your tired eyes. Better this than forcefully dragged out of bed by the old man. You peered through your window and flinched at the bright light. Damn.. Spring had arrived fast. You shielded your eyes and noticed that it was noon.

There was no way Achilles let you oversleep. There had to be a catch.

You pulled on trousers, shrugged on a dark coat, slipped into riding boots, and then strapped on your hidden blades. You grabbed a tricorn hat (which you had insisted Achilles to buy for weeks) and wore it to shield the light from your face.

**_~An hour later~_ **

"What do you mean I can't have them anymore?!" You cried. You flailed your arms in attempt to grab the two hidden blades Achilles had stripped you of. You had almost reached one of them, until he used his cane to trip you, and fall flat on your back.

"Until you prove that you meet the requirements of an Assassin, you will not be getting these back." Achilles had said, sighing with inevitable confirmation. You mouth dropped open.

"You've been training me since I was  _eight_!" You justified. You were about to throw a tantrum _as if_  you were eight.

"And your lack of work over the last two years has shown otherwise." He concluded, walking off and leaving you on the forest ground.

"Am I still allowed my pistol? My rifle?" Your heart stopped. "My  _bow_?"

"All you need for hunting is a dagger. Now let's see how well you fare with just that. I'm afraid I've been spoiling you with this variety of weapons, that you don't even know how to balance your own skills. Learn and distinguish each of their purposes and maybe I will allow you to use them again."

You blinked when a dagger pierced the dirt adjacent to your face.

_Realization in... 3..... 2..... 1._

"What the hell, old man?! You could've stabbed my eyeball out!" You shrieked.

"Luckily I did not."

Oh, so that was a form of  _luck_ , not skill, was it? What a hypocrite.

What are the odds that him restricting you from your weapons is a way to watch you torture, not to teach you?

Well, you knew for certain. You had to work hard if you wanted your weapons back anytime soon.


	9. Reason

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TIME SKIP. Word. Sahwee, this chapter won't have dialogue. Just to catch up with things, I suppose :3 It's short, and I apologize ;3;

Over the last six months, you trained. And train was all you could do. Ratonhnhaké:ton had taught you his ways and knowledge of hunting. You were then allowed your bow back for purposes pertaining to stealth. You showed Achilles that you knew that the bow and arrow was used for long ranged aim, and was a much quieter way of doing so, that would not scare other animals away.   
  
The second month, you had told Achilles that pistols were never for stealth nor hunting. They were really, meant for long ranged attacks that are needed quickly. All you needed to do was take it out of its holster and squeeze the trigger. Except it usually good for one time each battle, since reloading takes about twelve seconds or so. After that realization, you actually didn't care whether you had the pistol or not. But, it was lethal and deadly. Good enough for you.  
  
The third month, you attempted again to scale a cliff face. This time, no mistakes, and under two minutes. You did so in one and a half minutes. It took many tries, but one Friday evening, you showed that old hermit what you could do. You had the ability to be able to climb buildings and cliffs easily, and Ratonhnhaké:ton had even taught you how to climb trees. Well, you knew how, just not as smooth as you wanted to. His tutelage helped you further in your free running skill.  
  
The fourth month, you had successfully beaten Ratonhnhaké:ton in a brawl. It also took many tries as well, but you did it. You didn't know why you wanted to, but it felt rather,  _pleasant_ , to finally beat the Mohawk boy. Finally true triumphant feeling had existed.

The fifth and sixth month, you had not yet regained the hidden blade. Achilles had not proved you "worthy" yet, which was a rather pain in the arse. Perhaps later, but, not just yet. 

Achilles said you and Ratonhnhaké:ton will go to Boston tomorrow along with him.


	10. Massacre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, yes. This is the chapter where Ratonhnhaké:ton becomes "Connor". ;D And McSassyPants (Haytham) makes his appearance. ♥

"I still can't believe you took my hidden blades!" You complained, following Achilles with Ratonhnhaké:ton at your side. You had arrived by coach; the streets of Boston were slightly familiar. You almost knew its layout by heart, but not quite yet. You've only been here six or so times. Ratonhnhaké:ton seemed to be filled with awe. The throngs of people and large masses of buildings, shops every corner; Boston was truly remarkable. You had to admit, it was a bit livelier here than it was at the Homestead. But you enjoyed the time away from dense crowds of people.

And of course, Achilles had ignored your whining. As always.

"Don't stare." Achilles scolded the Mohawk boy.

"Sorry." It was rather amusing to see how blunt he was.

"Come on."

"This place is incredible. The people. The sounds and smells. I could walk these streets for days and know not even half its wonders."

"I thought the same as you upon a time. These days, I much prefer the quiet of the countryside."

"But there is so much life here. So many opportunities." Ratonhnhaké:ton justified.

"For a few, my boy. For a few..."

Achilles took a stop, instructing, "There's a store close to here. You're to buy the items on this list." He pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to the young Mohawk. "Tell them where the carriage is - and they'll see that's it loaded. Understood?"

"Yes."

"Good. You're also going to need a new name. Your skin is fair enough that you might pass for one with Spanish or Italian blood. Better to be thought a Spaniard than a Native. And both are better still than I."

"That is not true."

"What's  _true_  and what  _is_  aren't always the same."

"What would you call me, then?"

Achilles paused for a moment. "Connor. Yes. That will be your name. Alright then. Off you go." 

You recognized the name Connor from a grave near the manor. Supposedly his deceased son's name? Perhaps you'd ask him about it later. Well, at least his name would be easier to pronounce and less obvious that he was a native.

That was the beginning of Boston. Achilles had put you in charge of following "Connor" apparently, to make sure he wouldn't wander off and get lost. You watched him view things with awe- the citizens roaming the streets, chattering nonchalantly, town criers with their truthful or false news, and beggars. One citizen in particular had caught your attention. 

"I grow tired of this! It seems every day a new tax is levied-a new rule enforced-without our consent! The Revenue Act. The Indemnity Act. The Commissioners of Customs Act. Oh, Chancellor Townshend must have thought himself so clever when he papered these thefts and made them law. But the Constitution says we've a right to refuse! That there will be no taxation without representation! Tell me-who represented us in Parliament? Spoke on our behalf? Signed in our stead? Give me a name! Only you can't! And do you know why? You can't tell me who represented us because nobody did!"

It took courage to speak freely. It wasn't easy, as well. You'd get in trouble easily, that's for sure. But he was right. The British were overdoing it. They demanded excessive taxes. You knew this will turn into war soon enough. You cleared your mind of those thoughts and leaned against a building when Connor had finally entered a General Store. 

You met him outside of the General tore when he finished. Another citizen was conversing deeply about the taxes.

"Who stands in Parliament for Boston? For New York? For Virginia? No one! But Old Sarum is represented. And Newport and Newtown. Seaford and Saltash. The list goes on. Rotten boroughs one and all."

"So, what happened?"

"The man inside said that the things will be delivered to our wagon." 

"Good." It was nice to know that he did not mess anything up.

Several uproars rose from the crowds. 

"We should return to Achilles." He suggested.

You found your way back to the old man as Connor asked what happened.

"That's what we're about to find out. Follow me."

"Bloody hell." You murmured.

You followed Achilles into the dense crowd, filled with tumult and turmoil. A redcoat was shouting and ordering the crowd to dissipate.

"I say again: disperse! Congregating in this manner is forbidden!"

The crowd responded angrily:

"We're not going anywhere, bug!"

"Oi! Why don't you go back to England?!"

The redcoat looked frustrated. "No good can come of this chaos! Return to your homes and all will be forgiven!"

You sighed. If he thought this would cause the colonists to back down, he was profoundly mistaken.

"Never!"

"Not until you've answered for your crimes!"

"You're right cowards, pointing guns at unarmed folk!"

"You don't scare us!"

"We ain't afraid!"

"There!" Achilles pointed to a man in dark blue robes speaking with an associate. You gasped. That had to be Haytham Kenway. 

"Is that my father..?"

The man with Haytham began to depart elsewhere.

"Yes. Which means trouble is sure to follow. I need you to tail his accomplice. This crowd is a powder keg - we can't allow him to light the fuse." You saw disappointment in Connor's eyes. He wanted to confront his father, presumably.

"But-"

"But nothing! Do as I say and go!" Perhaps Achilles was doing this with reason. Connor wouldn't be able to match up to his father's skill. For now, of course. 

Connor left reluctantly, as you ask, "Are you sure? I feel like trouble's about to happen."

"I am sure. Just wait." 

You watched as Connor took out a redcoat on the rooftops, who was aiming a rifle down at the throng. You then notice Haytham point to Connor, directing a redcoat after him. Well, damn. 

"Achilles!" You cried. Another man on a building fired a shot into the air. Panic arose from the redcoats, as a Private commanded to fire at the rebels. "They're shooting the people!" 

You felt a sharp pain at your arm. "Dammit! I knew redcoats were unskilled, but  _damn_! They are a terrible shot!" You cringed in pain, grabbing your arm, now damp with blood. You can't believe they missed and hit you, who was at least twenty feet away and away from the riot.

"Come on, let's get you someplace safe." He ushered you away from the commotion as you tied a piece of cloth around your arm tautly, applying enough pressure to stop the bleeding. The white began to soak red as you ran through the streets. While you ran, you couldn't help but look behind you.

You hoped Connor would make it out of there alive.


	11. Rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OHMIGOSH OHMIGOSH OHMIGOSH. THE AQUILA MAKES ITS APPEARANCE. //slapped

"I can't believe those idiotic redcoats." You groaned. "How the bloody hell does one have aim so ridiculous that they shoot an  _innocent_ young girl in the arm!" 

"Calm down, [Name]. At least now you know that they aren't much of a challenge for you and Connor." Achilles uttered while working on your arm. You were satisfied to know that it was bleeding less. "How are you feeling?"

"Humm.." You started, hand on your chin. "Aside from the pain from the bloody bullet, mhm- doin' just fine, darlin'." His response was an irritated sigh. You rolled your eyes playfully as you asked, "So, what's next? Do we get to beat up ole 'aytham?" You found this accent rather amusing. Achilles did not.

"No, not yet." He shook his head. It was hard for him to conceal his vexation. "First, we wait for Connor's arrival."

You heard the door open, Connor stepping through. "Darn, that was a  _long_  wait!" You sarcastically exclaimed.

Achilles ignored you. "Welcome back!"

Connor stood there, with a rather annoyed expression. "You left me in Boston!" You chuckled lightly in the background.

"Sorry, squirt. Had no choice but to." You said. That wasn't entirely true. You  _could_  have waited for him. But it was more fun not to.

"The training we've done here is all well and good, but experience is a better teacher by far." Achilles said. You rolled your eyes. It seems Achilles speaks things that appear to be wise in order to seem less guilty or resolve a problem. You could swear that he randomly conjures them up, and always seem to work. Well that wasn't fair.

"What of my father?" 

"Into the wind, I'm afraid." Connor looked disappointed.

"We have to find him!"

"And we will...  _after_  the house has been repaired." Smart move, Achilles.

 _Yep, that's right kids._ You thought.  _Fixing your homes are much more important than stopping bad people._

"But he's out there plotting who knows what."

"And what would you do when you found him?  _If_  you found him? You're a boy with a few months of training. He's a man full grown who's spent decades honing his skills." Connor started pacing back and forth. Poor boy wanted to do something about his father badly. "If you're going to stand a chance against the Templars, you're going to need these." He pulled out a wooden box, grabbing both yours and Connor's attentions. Oh, you knew where this was going.

Connor took the box, examining it a bit, while you noticed the insignia on the box. He opened it, and you felt your eyes almost popping out. Inside the box lay two hidden blades, and for once, Connor seemed pleased. 

"Go on. Before I change my mind." 

He put the vambraces on both wrists and tested them both a few times. 

 _Snap, snap._ It was tempting to snatch them from him.

You were about to say something before being interrupted by what seemed to be a Scottish man knocking on the window. "Hey! Heeeeelp!"

Connor left the room and then out of the house to handle whatever it was the man needed. You remain seated for a few seconds before glaring at Achilles and rising. "I'll be speaking to you later, old man." 

You left the house, meeting with the man and Connor.

"You, Sir, please! Help! He's going to die!" This was interesting.

"Who?"

"There's no time! Please, come!"

You followed them down the hill, the snow making crunching noises as your footsteps made contact with them. You ran all the way down to a river.

"Down there! He's just passed under the bridge!" You and Connor both looked over to see another man holding onto a log. Unfortunately, instead of being in a fixed position, the log was flowing with the river. Great, a moving target.

 "Arg! Help me! Please! Someone! Help!"

"Stay here, I will handle it." Connor told you, running off. He jumped onto a few logs and rocks, making his way towards the man. Soon enough, they were so far away that you could no longer see them.

"Come!" The first Scottish man led you through a couple of trees to an area. You found Connor and the man laying on the ground, dripping with water. The man was coughing heavily.

"What this knob-end is trying to say is he's forever in your debt, sir." The first man said.

"Who you callin' a knob-end?" He could speak, but he sounded rather tired, still trying to catch his breath.

"You. Because you are one." Well these fellows get along quite nicely.

"What were you doing on those logs?" Connor asked.

"One of the dangers of lumberin'. We've got the capt set up a few rods off of here, as we're cuttin' timber. We're hoping to open a mill in the area."

Connor mused. "There is a good place not far from the manor on the hill where I am staying."

"Ha! I like you already. We'll have a look." And thus, they left leaving you and Connor.

"So, how do you like those hidden blades?" You said with an irritated tone, while giving a faint death glare.

Connor, however, was as confused as ever at your temper.

His expression was surely worth it.

..........

 "I'll miss the peace and quiet. But we can certainly use the wood." Achilles stated, leaning against his cane with both hands. There was now a lumbermill. No doubt that'd come in handy.

"The manor needs a lot of work." Connor acknowledged.

"That, and other things. Meet me at the small shack by the shoreline when you have time. There's something else you need to see."

"What is it?"

"An... asset."

While Achilles and Connor headed out in different directions, you contemplated. Whatever Achilles was talking about, it was probably Mister Faulkner. 

Soon enough, you made it to the shack. Connor knocked, hearing a man shout, "Go 'way!" He looked at Achilles, who motioned a "go on". He shrugged and opened the door, revealing an elderly man, Robert Faulkner.

"Said 'go way', boy. D'ya not speak the King's English?" Connor walked in, thus allowing Faulkner to see Achilles and you. "Oh, I didn't see you there, old man, [Name]." You nodded. "I'd of set my home in order if I'd known you'd be callin'." 

"The boy's name is Connor. He's here to restore the property."

"Restore? ... _Restore!_ " Faulkner stood and exited. the shady shack, you, Achilles, and Connor following. "Pardon my manners! She's still the fastest in the Atlantic - sure she needs some attention... minor things mostly but with a little affection she'll fly again."

"Who is 'she'?" Connor queried.

" _Who_  is  _she?_  Why the Aquila, boy! The Ghost of the North Seas!"

The ship- it was.. it was... Sunken. Wrecked. Sullied. Whatever fits that category.  _Quite marvellous, Mister Faulkner._ You thought.

"The boat?" You chuckled lighly at Connor's oblivious manner.

"B-b- a  _boat?!_  She's a  _ship_ , boy, and make no mistake about it!" He drifted to Achilles. "I thought you brought him here to restore order? I reckon he's the greenest thing on the frontier!" He mumbled.

"Connor, meet me back at the manor when you've finished here." Achilles directed, leaving the shack to the manor.

" You said it requires repairs... You able?" Connor asked.

" _She_  does need work - a ship is a 'she', boy - and yes I can refit her but I'm lacking in the proper supplies. Some... Some quality timber would help me get started."

Of course. Godfrey and Terry, the two Scottish lumberjacks that Connor helped. They should be able to do something. "I can see to that. How long before it -  _she_  is able to sail again?

"Just get me the timber, boy and I'll raise a crew."

Upon returning to the manor, Achilles had taught both you and Connor how to maintain the Homestead. You knew it was going to grow and grow, maybe even enough to prosper, but without someone keeping track of the funds and dealings, it will go nowhere.

Oak lumber was bought from Godfrey and Terry, then sent out to Hancock's Store No. 5 out in Boston, the one Connor went to for the supplies Achilles asked for. You were certain that the ship will be repaired in due time. Hopefully soon. 

The last thing to do before the day ended was to "confront" Achilles. Whatever 'confront' meant to you may be quite different from others, but, hell, what did you care. 

"How come you let  _him_  have hidden blades?!" Yes, yes, this was more like complaining rather than confronting. 

"Must we go over this again?" Achilles sighed, obviously not wanting to have to deal with you.

"You gave them to him in  _front_  of me." You groaned. "I work just as hard. Wouldn't you think I deserve them as well?" 

"That's a very nice fantasy, [Name]." He patted your head, and headed to his room.

You sighed, defeated.  _It was worth a bloody shot._


	12. The Aquila

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sahwee Eds, but Connah's always gon' be the best captain eva. NOW SUCK IT UP AND GO CRY ON YOUR JACKDAW. Yes, Jackdaw is the name of Edward's ship. BUT AQUILA FOREVER! YEE HAR.
> 
> WHERE IS CHARLES LEE?

_Time passed quickly after that – my days a blur of study, training, and work. What little free time Achilles allowed me was spent learning about the Templars. About Charles Lee and my father. I longed to confront them. To put an end to their schemes. To ensure my people would remain untroubled and free. But I knew it was too soon. That to approach them now would see me killed. All my work would be for nothing. Patience. Restraint. These proved the most difficult subjects for me. But in time I mastered them as well. Days became months. Months became years. And as my skill and knowledge grew – so too did I._

-Ratonhnhaké:ton

 You were walking alongside Connor on your way to the docks. Time has passed, definitely, and of course, renovations and reparations have been made to the  _Aquila._ And so you were ready to finally witness the magnificent beauty (as Mister Faulkner would call it) go to work. 

"Come aboard and feast your eyes, boy!" Faulkner said as Connor began to walk onto the ship. "No no no no, not the left foot!" He stepped back down. "Never the left foot. Horrible luck. Step with your right foot first." And he did so. "[Name]?" Faulkner offered for you to set foot on deck.

You shook your head furiously. "No thanks, sir! I-I think I'm fine back here... on this fine land. Where things won't rock back and forth... I'm fine! R-Really!" You laughed lightly.

The two looked at each other. Connor began walking towards you.

"What are you doing, Connor? No! No, no, no. Get away from me! Stop! Damn you and your kind Faulkner! Put me down this instant, young man!"

Connor was carrying you over his shoulder as you frantically struggled to escape his grasp. Unfortunately he wasn't requiring as much energy as you were.

"I am older than you."

"And your point is?!" You felt him shake his head as you gave up and sighed. "I'm being held against my own will."

Once you were on deck, he set you down, and immediately you almost collapsed.

"[Name], are you alright? You seem a bit green." You fell onto your back against the wooden surface.

"No, really? I suppose I painted my face green this morning." You sarcastically said.

"Okay, since there seems to be no problems, let us get started, Connor." Faulkner said. You groaned.

"She is... solid." Connor said. He didn't seem like he knew what he was talking about.

"Who? The girl or the ship, lad?" You groaned even louder. "What am I saying? [Name] can't even stand without falling over once or twice."

"I get it, okay?" You whined. "I'll 'ave ye heads for this!" 

Ignored once again. "Aye. Weatherly and sleek. She'll fetch twelve knots in a stiff gale, ne'er a ship from here to Singapore can outrun her on her best day. Wha'dya say we take her out and show you what she can do first hand."

"I oppose!" You shout, still flat on the boarding.

And again, you were ignored. "Where would we go?" Connor asked.

"As it happens she still needs guns and the officers to command them. We'll launch straight away. Don't worry, lad, I'll make sure you sprout good sea legs. Haul in the mainsail! Get up the rigging! Hand over fist! Come on, men!! Let's get her out where she needs to be!"

"Oh dear lord." You mumbled.

................

You resorted to the area underneath the deck. Or whatever it was called. You knew nothing of sailor terms. Well, all you knew was that you were along the east coast. But only an imbecile wouldn't be able to figure that out.

Sailor shanties were being sung everywhere around the  _Aquila_. You were glad to know that these sailors actually enjoyed being overseas, unlike yourself here. The constant rocking made your stomach sick, and yourself light-headed. How fun.

"Come on, lad! No time like the present! Come on, come on! She won't bite!" You heard Faulkner shout to Connor from above.

 _Oh lord. Is he really giving the wheel to Connor? Save us all.._  You thought. Now you were definitely staying inside of the ship.

After a couple of long minutes, you felt the  _Aquila_  slow down to a stop. Your head perked up quickly.

You quickly ran off the ship and onto pure land, shouting out, "Land! I've missed you, dear! I promise to never leave you again!"

A pretty nice way to gain first impressions on yourself. This was Martha's Vineyard, an island a bit off of Massachusetts. You followed Faulkner and Connor into an inn, still very much grateful that everything around you has stopped moving.

"Oh, hullo, Miss Mandy. You're looking every bit as ravishing as I remember."

"After all these years you sail all the way to the Vineyard to pay me compliments?" This "Mandy" was most likely the innkeeper, of course. 

"We're looking for David and Richard Clutterbuck."

"Nice to see you, too." She said sarcastically, tilting her head towards two men sitting at a table.

"Robert Faulkner. Where the hell you been?" The first man said. You raised your eyebrow at how cold he spoke.

"Sorry for leavin' like I did lads, but where I was going... no one could know... You two working much?" Faulkner took a seat at the same table.

"Nah... between contracts at the moment." The second man said.

"Well, we're looking for gunnery officers. What would you two say to working with me again?" Faulkner offered.

"We'd be for gettin' into a few more scraps." He chuckled.

"Good show! 'The Aquila is a fine vessel. We're fitting all the guns as we speak..." 

Connor began walking off, and you raised your arm to say something before the first man said, "Looks like your friend's about to catch a beatin'."

"Where is Charles Lee?" 

Yep. Pretty damn straight-forward. You were almost embarrassed by it until you recognized one of the men Connor walked up to as Benjamin Church, one of the Templars from the basement in the manor.

"I don't much care for your tone, boy." Church said.

The other man, Nicholas Biddle, rose from his seat.

"Hey... You don't want to be doin' that, Biddle." Faulkner said.

"Bobby Faulkner turned to wet-nursing? Good you finally realized you're a  _shite_  sailor." Biddle said.

"Whoa whoa whoa! Not in here gentlemen. Better still, not at all. Bobby, take your friends and get out." Mandy shouted after separating the two men.

"Let's go boys. Our guns ought to be ready. Come on." Faulkner ushered Connor out, and you followed. Well that went rather unexpected.

...............

As you boarded the  _Aquila_ , you immediately dashed for under the deck as you notice Connor taking hold of the wheel. Today was just not your day.

After a minute or so of sailing, you heard a loud  _boom_  coming from outside, along with a bit of shaking from the ship. You knew what was happening. The cannons were being fired. Hell, you couldn't even stay on board without feeling sick. Being in the middle of naval combat will cause you to pass out without much effort.

One of the sailors had noticed your almost trembling state and assured you, "Don't worry, lass. Tis but only target practice. And then we be headin' home."

However, not too long after, the same sailor returned with more news. "Okay, lassie. A bunch of enemy vessels have been spotted. We're being attacked by a British frigate. Brace yourself."

Something told you that these sailors weren't actually taking this as seriously as they should and they were only doing this for the entertainment of watching you suffer. Probably because they've been in many, many naval battles. While you, a hardcore land lover, have not.

..................

Finally, back on Davenport land. You almost made dirt angels from the joy of being back on land.

"I got 'em! All of 'em! You find what I need and I'll give 'em to ya! Simple! You got a ship! Could find 'em all to boot!" You heard an old man shout.

"Who is that man?" Connor asked.

"Him? Some ol' salt always going on about letters he's got from Captain Kidd. Nonsense, really, but he don't hurt no one, so I leave him be. Talk to him if you fancy, but be warned – he'll chew your ear off. Anyway, the Aquila's here for you, should you get a pang for the open sea. Now I implore you to head up the hill 'fore the Old Man comes out of retirement just for me."

Next time they go sailing, you were hiding in the stables.


	13. Legacy

"Three weeks... and not even a goodbye before you left."

You laughed innocently and rubbed the back of your head. Standing at the doorway, Connor and you had just arrived back at the homestead, from Martha's Vineyard. Achilles was attempting to scold you and Connor both for leaving so abruptly, but evidently, seemed a little relieved at your arrival. Well, you were relieved too- you very much preferred being on land.

You gave a soft smile as Connor said, "Sorry..." Achilles turned his back and began to slowly walk off with his cane as you gazed at Connor, who had shrugged. 

"Well? What are you waiting for?" Achilles turned back around, with an impatient look on his face. He then continued to walk in the direction he was heading- the basement. You exchanged one last look with Connor, who began to follow Achilles. You sighed mildly, closing the front door, and caught up with the two. 

Your eyes locked onto Haytham Kenway, as you passed by the portraits of the important Templars in the colonies. Your expression was vacuous, or lost in thought, as you thought about what may happen if the father and son were to meet. You shook your head, wandering past the portraits as you watched Connor gaze at the Assassin's Robes, once again. He rested his hand on it, admiring the garment.

"Put them on." Achilles motioned. Connor looked at Achilles, as if even he was unsure whether he had the potential, nor capabilities, of bearing the right of being an Assassin. You nodded when he turned towards you, knowing that he was perfectly apt. In response, he had shown a grateful smile. 

While Connor went to change, you had cleared your throat, loudly enough for Achilles to hear. He had reluctantly turned his head towards you with a  expression as he rolled his eyes, preparing for whatever it was you had to complain about.

"What?" He sighed.

"I did not say nary a thing." You arrogantly said, crossing your arms. 

"Is this about your bla-"

"What makes you think that?" You whimpered, averting your gaze elsewhere.

"The fact that you had cut me off before I had gotten the chance to speak the word 'blade' surely is enough evidence, I presume?" 

You sighed. "I don't understand what I'm not doing correctly." 

Achilles' expression grew solemn. "Let's go upstairs, child." He began walking up the stairs in his usual pace, cane and wooden steps causing those creaking sounds you hear just about everyday. 

"But what about him?" You frowned.

"It will take long for him to change into the robes- I assure you. Now, come." He continued to walk upstairs. You sighed and followed him into one of the rooms on the ground floor. 

"Sit." He ordered, pointing to one of the chairs and taking a seat in another. "Do you know why I tell the story of the Assassins and Templars so often?"

"Because their conflict affects everyone...?"

He shook his head. "That is only part of the reason. While it is true that both sides have been at odds for over six-hundred years, they cause various problems with those who interfere. [Name], I could not permit you to have your hidden blades because you were not ready. I don't know what I was thinking when I let you use them a few years ago, but these weapons have much more meaning than for idle minds and hunting animals.

"Assassins have always been using these- even dating back to 5th Century BCE Iran, where Darius had slain King Xerxes I. Because of this, this weapon was able to advance further, in due time. Altaïr had used the hidden blade himself, however, during that time, Assassins had to undergo the removal of their ring finger in order to equip the weapon. That shows how much dedication an Assassin would need in order to wield such an iconic weapon. Around 200 or so years later, Ezio Auditore and those of the Italian Brotherhood had adapted the blade so that they would be able to keep their ring fingers. That was also when they had began to use two hidden blades, thanks to Leonardo da Vinci."

You remained silent, as he pulled out a wooden box, very similar to what the box Connor's blades had rested in. "Now, I shall render these blades back to you, as you now have a strong knowledge of their background. You should be lucky that I was able to get my hands on these- an extra pair. As these were the blades that had belonged to you, Connor is the one with the blades I had once used." He opened the box, taking out two perfect blades with their wrist guards. He handed them to you, as you took them with gratitude and earnest. 

"Thank you, Achilles." You said, putting the vambraces on.

"It is not me who has done a thing. You, especially, have grown. And with that expression on your face, you don't think you're deserving of them." You nodded. "Let me tell you something. Even the great Altaïr himself was demoted and stripped of his blade. You should not feel any shame."

You heard footsteps, and sure enough, Connor was the one they had belonged to. Donned in the Assassins robes, he stretched a bit in order to relieve the stiffness of the garb. "Looking good, Connor." You said with a light laugh. 

Achilles stood up and walked over to Connor. "Once upon a time we had ceremonies on such occasions. But I don't think either of us are really the type for that. You've your tools and training. Your targets and goals. And now you have your title." He rested his hand on his shoulder. "Welcome to the Brotherhood, Connor."


	14. Reclaim

_These are troubled times. The already uneasy alliance between the Crown and its subjects frays. And behind them both the Templars plot, pulling strings and moving pieces. History dictates they seek order through control. But how will they affect it here? Who supports them? And what conspiracies have they already spun? All these things I must determine, for only by knowing my enemy can I hope to stop them._

_-Connor, 1773_

"Are you ready?" You let out a hearty laugh as Connor braced himself. You took a deep breath, and then ran towards him with his own tomahawk. You were closing in on full speed, until your foot had met an imperfection within the floorboards, and you had tripped and fell, bringing Connor down with you. "Bloody hell." You murmured, staring back at the hole in the floor and your leg. Connor cleared his throat, and you had looked to see that you had fallen right on top of him- surely a _fine_  way to start the day. Note the sarcasm.

You began laughing lightheartedly, as footsteps were heard coming down the stairs. You stood up, and helped Connor up as well, then examined your ankle. Achilles had made his way downstairs, and you noticed he had a rope in his hands. 

"Connor. Spare a moment?" 

"Of course." He made his way toward the old man.

"Have a look." Achilles extended the distance between his arms to show what it was that he was holding.

"What is it?" He gave it to Connor, who had one end of it in one hand and began swinging it with the other.

"A  _Sheng Biao_  - or rope dart, if you prefer. One of the many plans given to us by Shao Jun to -"

Connor had released the dart with one hand, so that it hit and pierced one of the weapons racks. You began to chuckle as Achilles sighed.

"Sorry." Connor said.

"Hmmm. We'll have to work on this." Achilles said, with a slight smile. 

Someone knocked on the front door. Connor went up to go see whoever it was, as Achilles walked towards you, in your sitting position. 

"You might want to get that fixed." You said, gesturing toward the hole in the floor where you had tripped.

"Is your ankle okay?" He said, as he bent down to look at the floor.

You began to fiddle with the orientation of your foot. "It should be fine. Just a little-" Your ankle made a  _crack_ sound. You blinked a few times at the unexpected, although brief, pain. "Yes, Achilles, I'm fine." 

Both you and Achilles stood up, walking upstairs to see who it was that was at the door. One of Connor's native friends was there, talking with him. 

"Men came, claiming we had to leave. They said that the land was being sold and that the Confederacy had consented. We sent an envoy, but they would not listen." Connor looked a little distressed at his friend's news.

"You must refuse!"

" We cannot oppose the sachem. But you are right as well. We cannot give up our home."

"You have a name? Do you know who is responsible?"

"He is called William Johnson." You and Achilles exchanged looks. This didn't sound good.

"Where is Johnson now?" Connor asked in a serious tone.

"In Boston, making preparations for the sale."

"Sale? This is theft."

"Connor, take care. These men are powerful." Achilles added. He seemed a little worried for him.  You couldn't blame him. Whenever Connor was riled up over something, his intentions were usually clear and inevitable.

"What would you have me do? I made a promise to my people."

"If you insist upon this course of action, seek out Sam Adams in Boston. He'll be able to help."

The other native had handed Connor his axe. The axe was slammed into one of the posts in front of the house, digging into to old wood.

"What have you done?!" Achilles said, in a slight scolding tone.

"When my people go to war, a hatchet is buried into a post to signify its start." He pointed to the post. "When the threat is ended, the hatchet is removed."

Achilles groaned as they began walking away. "You could have used a tree!"

"Achilles, might I go as well? It was once my village as well. Kind of..." 

"[Name], you're seventeen now. As long as you're with Connor, I don't feel I have the need to worry excessively about you."

You gave a grateful smile. "Wait... Was that a complement?" 

"Just go." He waved you off. 

You ran out to the stables, where your trusty steed was munching. You had mounted Frost and then passed the manor, waving a short goodbye to Achilles. Although, a couple of seconds later, you had reared Frost back towards the manor and shouted a, "Where was he headed again?"

"Boston, dear. Boston."

"Thanks!" Your horse began with a trot, and then galloped at full speed. Once Connor came into your line of sight, you had slowed your horse down to a canter, to a trot. "Hey, Skip." You said with a grin. 

"What are you doing here, [Name]?" 

"I can't come with you?" 

He looked to his right, his beaked hood pulled over his head, to see you with a pleading face. "There's nothing wrong with it."

"Great!" You grinned again. "So, was that man Kanen'tó:kon?" You were referring to the native that had told Connor about William Johnson.

"Yes, how did you know?" 

"You talked about him a little. That's it." 

"I see."

The rest of the travel to Boston was you openly noting the things you notice in the area, with Connor only nodding and agreeing to practically everything you said. It was a bright day, and the weather wasn't too cold nor too warm. It wouldn't been a fine day to hunt, too.

"Look, sanctions and demonstrations won't suffice, Sam. We need to  _act_. And I'm talking about more than a sternly worded letter." A man Samuel Adams was having a conversation with said.

"I sympathize with your frustrations, gentlemen. But surely you can understand my reluctance to kick the hornet's nest.

"The Tories sting no matter what we do. Might as well make it count."

Connor made his way through the throng of people to get to Adams, you following shortly behind. When Adams had caught sight of Connor, you could see a bit of relief in his eyes.

"Ah, Connor. Hello again. What brings you to Boston?" The other man looked at Connor and you.

"You." Connor said. 

"Would you excuse us fellows?" Adams and Connor began walking away from two other men, and you continued to follow, two paces behind. All you could do for now was listen in on their conversation.

"Thank you. That conversation was about to turn unpleasant. Now, what can I do for you?"

"I was hoping you could help me locate William Johnson."

"Of course. I'm headed to a meeting with some men who should be able to help. Why don't you come along?" Adams looked around. "It's good to see the people finally taking a stand against injustice..."

"Says the man who owns a slave."

 _'Woah, Connor.'_ You thought. You stopped to pet a nearby dog. ' _Who's a good little doggy...'_

"Who, Surry? I practice what I preach, my friend. She's not a slave, but a freed woman... At least on paper. Men's minds are not so easily turned. It is a tragedy that for all our progress, still we cling to such barbarism."

"Then speak out against it." You stood up and began to follow the two again.

"We must focus first on defending our rights. When this is done, we'll have the luxury of addressing these other matters."

"You speak as though your condition is equal to that of the slaves. It is not."

"Tell that to my neighbor - who was compelled to quarter British troops. Or to my friend whose store was closed because he displeased the Crown. The people here are no freer than Surry."

"You offer excuses instead of solutions. All people should be equal and not in turns."

"It's in turns or not at all. We must compromise, Connor, however painful that may be. Try and solve all the world's problems at the same time you'll wind up solving none at all." As if trying to change the topic, Adams turned towards you and asked, "And who is this young lady here?"

"This is [First Name] [Last Name]. She has the same intentions as I."

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Adams." You gave a sincere smile. 

Before the conversation could continue, you heard shouting coming from the area you were heading towards. British Redcoats and a taxman were standing in front of a colonist's home.

"Hey, it's my home no matter what you thieves called 'taxmen' say! If the gumps in Parliament who want my property, you tell them to sail across the pond and take it themselves!" The owner of the home, an apparent Frenchman, was shouting out the window of the second floor.

"It's not open for discussion! Now open this door or these men will break it down!" The taxman shouted. The Frenchman came out of sight, and then back into their view. He dumped whatever it was in his chamber pot down, onto the taxman, who backed up before he was hit. You gagged at the sight.

One of the redcoats shouted, "Bollocks! We're coming in!" He began to ram one of the windows with the butt of his musket. The window cracked.

The Frenchman, all of a sudden, rammed through the door and tackled the taxman. Some of the redcoats around the area noticed and ran over to the commotion to point their rifles at the man.

"I trust the mounting evidence is proof enough, Connor." Adams said.

"Continue on. I shall meet you at our destination." Connor looked at you, and you nodded. 

The Frenchman was fighting off the redcoats that came at him, as you sighed. Connor charged right at the redcoats, and you looked around to make sure there were no other British soldiers around to take notice of the conflict. While the redcoats were focused only on Connor and the Frenchman, you took this advantageous fact to take them out one by one with your hidden blade. Luckily enough, they were too stupid to notice you were even there. The redcoats fell one by one, and you stretched your arms above your head once you were done.

"Justice for once. I dare the Governor to send more." The Frenchman said, spitting on one of the redcoats' corpse.

"You alright?" Connor asked.

"I'm fine. It's not my first dance. For all their teeth and claws these little foxes, they fight like puppies. Thank you, my friend. I said I'd buy you an ale, but I'm expected somewhere else." He left.

You bent down to loot some of the corpses, and smiled every time you found a few pounds. "Alright. Shall we?"

When you and Connor had arrived at the tavern where he was to meet Adams, sure enough, he was there. Adams and another man was sitting on the stools at the counter.

"Connor, [Name]! I'd like you to meet some like-minded friends. The owner of this fine establishment, William Molineux and the manager and chef of his newest venture, Stephane Chapheau."

Connor gestured to Molineux, then looked to his right to see Stephane Chapheau. Chapheau was the Frenchman you and Connor had just fought alongside with. What a small world.

"Ah, Connor, [Name], and I just had a ball with some Redcoats enforcing some taxmen outside my home!"

"The collectors grow bolder and more forceful. Something we must address, Samuel." Molineux said.

Adams nodded. "Then let us raise a banner. Something to let the people know that they are not alone. The docks are an angry place of late, protesters picketing the latest shipments of British tea. The eyes of the city are upon that stage..."

"A Bostonian without his tea is a dangerous beast!"

"William Johnson is smuggling the tea off the ships - one of his men tried to sell me this." Molineux held a pouch and tossed it onto the counter. "A sample of what I refused, but it's from those ships - no mistaking the stamp. He's charging a King's ransom, must be he's making a mint off those who buy it."

"Where is he now?" Connor asked.

"I've never met the man."

"May I ask why you seek him, Connor?" Adams said, with a slightly suspicious tone and expression.

"He intends to purchase the land upon which my village stands without the consent of my people."

"No doubt the revenue from his little smuggling endeavor is financing the acquisition. A tax enforced on tea grants a boon to smugglers. I'll wager the same men who levy the taxes are selling the tea. A stage requires a spectacle and I may know the play." Connor began to leave, so you followed. "Connor, head back to the docks and see to the destruction of the tea. If you should need us, return here."

As he exited the building, he bumped into a man holding a crate. The man dropped his crate and stumbled backward. 

"Pardon me." Connor said, continuing to walk.

"Aw, come on, mate." The man said, causing Connor to turn around. You bent down to look at what spilled from the crate, to see many pouches of tea, similar to the one Molineux showed. The tax enforcer began to run away, once he realized you noticed the contents.

"Smugglers." You sigh. 

"Come on." Connor beckoned. You nodded and followed him to the docks of Boston.


	15. Unaware

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor is too uke so I make Reader seme, you're welcome ;) ♥
> 
> Needed more romance in it, so I put some. You're also welcome. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

The smuggled tea was destroyed. You and Connor had made sure of it. You had found barrels of gunpowder, which you and Connor had shot with your flintlock pistols, causing various explosions. All you were hoping for at this point was that it would damage William Johnson's income profoundly.

"Is that all?" You asked Connor, while reloading the firearm. You wiped the sweat from your brow and began 

He nodded.

"To the tavern?" You looked at him once, then scouted to make sure there were no other 

He nodded once again.

"Why are you so quiet?"

He shrugged. You groaned and hit him in the back of the head with your pistol. Not hard enough to be fatal, but hard _enough_. "Ow!" He grunted. 

"Sorry, I was trying to see if you were awake." You laughed. He shook his head as he began to walk off. You sheathed the pistol in its holster. "You go to Adams." He turned back towards you, with question plastered on his face. "I'll go see what I can find out about Johnson while you converse with him." 

"Are you sure?" His eyes looked sincere. You couldn't help but smile.

"I'll be fine. These redcoats don't know how to fight- they only  _act_  tough, dear." You got closer to him to the point where you could feel his breath tingle your skin. You rested your hands on his shoulder and cooed, "Even if something were to happen to me, you would be there to rescue me, wouldn't you?" He stiffened a little, and you chuckled to yourself lightly as you parted. 

"Hey," you added. He looked at you. "You're worry about me being alone, but know that it can go the other way around. Just don't do anything reckless." You gave him one last smile before departing.

"Wait, [Name]."

You spun around and immediately felt lips against yours. Your eyes widened in shock, but then softened and closed. You felt his hands grip your waist as you murmured, "Connor..." You knew you shouldn't be getting carried away here, even if there was nobody around, but you wanted to stay like this forever- it was as if you were meant to be. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you parted from his face, staring into his eyes. 

"You have changed over the years."

"I could say the same about you." You softly said, as he carssed the side of your slightly reddened face. "Connor." He seemed lost in thought, but then looked you in the eye. "Connor, I got to go.  _You've_  got to go."

"Right." He quickly let go of you, averting his gaze elsewhere. 

"We shall talk later, alright?" You shouted as you ran off.

Whatever had happened had completely thrown you off. You were unsure of what it meant, but you knew it might bother you later. You decided to take your mind off of things and focus on gathering information on William Johnson.


	16. Familiar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have to always be on the comp when McSassyPants makes an appearance. Too much italics for the sarcasm here HAHHAHAH hurhe.. You could definitely sense that the reader, or you, has definitely grown in 3 years :D Such comebacks. Very assassin. Much sarcastic.
> 
> I put a Mulan reference, see if you can find it~

"Who are you?" A female voice spoke.  
  
"A familiar man, I presume. Although I do not expect you to know exactly  _who_ , yet. And why not introduce yourself?" An older, male English voice replied. His London accent was strong.  
  
"Why should I? I hardly know you."  
  
"Is that not the point of introducing...? Well, that does not matter as of now. My name is... Reginald Birch."  
  
"Right, _'Mr. Birch'_. And my name is Claudia Auditore."  
  
"Smart girl."   
  
"What do you want from me?"  
  
"I could ask the same of you."  
  
"How so? I don't know a thing about you."  
  
"Let's just say that... I knew your parents."  
  
"Wh-"  
  
"They weren't killed by the French. You'd be surprised as to who the real culprit is."  
  
"I can't help but dislike something about your tone... Anyway, what is this madness you're speaking of? I watched my parents be slaughtered by them."  
  
"And how would you remember? It occurred when you were no older than an infant."  
  
"How could someone forgot their only family being killed in front of their eyes, and because they were too weak at the time, they fled and never saw them again?"  
  
"... You have no idea." The man murmured.  
  
"Huh?"   
  
He cleared his throat. "Anyway, back to the topic. You are an... assassin, are you not?"  
  
"H-how did you-"  
  
"Years of experience. You see," A click sounded. "I, too, wield the  _blades_."  
  
"I see you are an ally, then. Or am I mistaken?"  
  
"That is for you to find out, child."  
  
"I am not a child."  
  
"Peace, miss. Now about the-"  
  
"There she is! The woman that caused the destroyed tea! William Johnson shall have your head for that, wench!" A shot rang through the air. You screeched in pain, grabbing your arm tightly.  
  
"Dammit!" You cursed.  
  
"This way!" The man beckoned you. You decided it would be alright to trust him for now. There would be no reason for him not to assist you at this time. As he was sprinting, you following shortly behind, he asked, "Are you alright?"  
  
"I'm fine! This isn't the first this has happened." You said, with an annoyed tone. The man ducked into a hidden opening within a fence, and you did the same.  
  
You scouted the lonely area, confused on where he had went, before someone had pulled on your arm and caused you to fall into the tall vegetation to the side. You almost began to shout, but the man had covered your mouth with his hand and hushed you quietly. He focused on the soldiers passing by, who were fortunately searching through the wrong areas.

"Alright, looks like we lost them." He stood up, rather abrupt to the point that the plants rustled and lost a few leaves. "Now, let's get down to business." He offered you a hand, which you had reluctantly taken. It was good to be cautious. You only wished you could see his face clearer, although you were pretty certain of his identity. He gestured for you to begin walking casually beside him. "Come with me to England."

His sudden request had surely shocked you, as your immediate response was, "Why should I?!"

"I need to show you something there, where I used to live. No doubt will you learn much."

"I need an explanation." You rolled your eyes scornfully.

"It will be a quick trip, I assure you."

"You realize that an average voyage across the sea takes months, do you not?"

"Well, other than the travel itself, the time in England would be hasty."

You groaned. "I still don't know who you are- why should I?" You fibbed, hoping he would believe you.

"Trust me on this. And I doubt that you haven't recognized me yet, Miss [First Name] [Last Name]."

"H-How did you-"

"I have my ways. Nice job in ruining one of my associates' profit." He was talking about William Johnson, referring to your stunt with Connor pertaining to the destroyed tea. Because he knew of that, and called Johnson one of his 'associates', you were fully aware of who it was you were conversing with.

"I see... Well,  _Mr. Birch_ , quite an act you're pulling here. And using an alias- the name of your father's former employee who you had murdered in cold blood? Such dark obscurity."

"How do you know of this?" He looked genuinely surprised.

"How would I not know of the former Grand Master of the British Rite of the Templar Order? Now the real question is why you were the one to have killed him."

"Th-"

"Another thing I found puzzling was finding out that your father was an Assassin himself." You cut him off. "Now, I can understand how Connor is an Assassin, not having the influence of his Templar father around during his youth and childhood, but I still am very perplexed on  _your_  history." You held your chin in deep thought.

"I'm impressed. I thought you were an inexperienced and callow girl that only fought for foolish reasons. Seems I was wrong."

" _That_  would be an understatement. Do not disparage us Assassins." You paused. "Oh, and I've thought about your offer. I would be happy to go to England with you and see whatever it is you'd like to show me."

"It would be my honor to take you."

"But I'm warning you- Do  _not_ think you can get away with  _anything,_ Haytham Kenway."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOoh I made reader sound so badass in this chapter
> 
> Basically this chapter and the next are foreshadows for the sequel. Next chapter is the last! I'm sorry ;A;


	17. Reminisce, and Never Forget

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All the text belonging to Haytham's journal are all excerpts taken from Oliver Bowden's Forsaken. I own nothing of that matter. I might as well add it that I also do not own Assassin's Creed, any characters, etc. Well, except you. HAHHAH I OWN YOOU.
> 
> I think I wrote one slightly inaccurate statement, but it shouldn't affect anything noticeable or important
> 
> I think this chapter is like an analysis of everything, a reminiscence, as the title chapter suggests xD basically sums up everything and causes expanded thought, so ENJOY
> 
> note: I do not know my ship terms, so feel free to laugh at me XD but I will provide you with one:
> 
> _Knot- A unit of speed, one nautical mile per hour, approximately 1.85 kilometers (1.15 statute miles) per hour_

_I never remembered or even fully understood the reason why I had left like that. But I never forgot the life I used to have. Someone... had shown up. Situations had called for me to take action and find out more on what I was lacking. But whoever reads this tiny, scrawled note, I'd like to ask you a favor. I want him to know that I'm sorry- I want both of them to know that I couldn't have been happier without them. The old man, and him. I honestly wish my past hadn't strongly affected the present me, for it would have turned out much better. But he must remember. He must remember my face, my voice, my name. For even I do not know when I shall return._

_~[Name], 1773_

First, it was the adolescence of a young soul that had sparked the one idea of growth and development. You wanted to become an ideal, venerable assassin, the one your progeny would look up to. Narcissism, fortunately, was not the word to describe how you felt. It was the contrary. You believed that you lacked the strength, valor, and experience. You were planning to seek out answers, become wise in the ways of combat. A reckless youth would only be but a barricade and burden to her teammates, or at least that's what you thought. 

What had happened was that while you were at Boston, right after you had parted with Connor, was that a man you had come across was Connor's father himself, Haytham E. Kenway. Offering to take you to England to show you a "new sight" that you could supposedly learn from, you had left Boston with him, knowing that if you told Achilles, he would have had Connor make sure you stayed here in the colonies. And what would make it worse would be Connor even knowing that you were accompanying _Haytham._  Unfortunately, Connor was not ready to meet his father face to face yet.

Currently, you were aboard a vessel Haytham had managed to access, with all of his influences. Bored out of your mind, you went for a walk around the deck, and then down to around all the quarters of the passengers. The ship was comfortable enough, yes, but the fact that it was a ship had caused your mind to become fixated on that one ship you were so familiar with.  _The Aquila._  As much as you hated being overseas, you had gotten used to it over the last three years. The constant rocking had become habitual every time you boarded it. Connor had improved magnificently while captaining his ship, you had joined him for various reasons. You missed that damned skipper. Back to the ship that you were currently on (its name seemed unimportant at the time, and you were too tired to even find out what it was), it wasn't as heartwarming as the  _Aquila_  had been, even if its purpose was not to lodge passengers, but partake in naval combat. The  _Aquila_  possessed something other vessels did not. Perhaps it was not just her majestic and grandiose appearance and functionality, but her Captain. You've heard Mister Faulkner speak many of the  _Aquila's_ accomplishments before Connor's time. For example, the ship being capable of "twelve  _knots_  in good wind". Or maybe the reason you took such a liking to the ship was that of familiarity, as stated before. It was almost what you could consider a  _part of the family_. 

While pondering over such thoughts, it had come to your attention that you had indeed left so abruptly. Due to the fact that you have been away from land for a few days must have Connor and the old man worried sick, which you regretted most of all. The regret was so lamentable and lugubrious that you had immediately felt homesick. You had realized that you had just ditched a life full of irreplaceable memories. While you thought you lacked experience, you felt you were back at the bottom of the staircase, for all the experience you had originally had remained back in America. And you had left at such an inconvenient time, you felt like you should have confessed to Connor before you left, though. And because of that kiss... Your sudden disappearance would leave a deep wound that would be difficult to heal once you return. You were sure of it.

It was true- you were head over heels for the man. Perception swept through your mind a few hours after you left the colonies and started realizing what you were leaving behind. Even if this sudden change in location was temporary, you couldn't help but feel that. Connor had been good to you over the years, you had noticed. Even Achilles saw it. Oh, Achilles. You were not only leaving Connor behind, but the old man who had housed you since you were small. He made you who you were today, tended to each wound, whether it was self-afflicted or not, and had taught and disciplined you like a real, venerable Mentor should. This revelation had made you feel as if you didn't deserve the two.

Something wet had met your cheeks, and as your hand had met the warm tears forming at your eyes, the fact that you were actually crying had caused you to delve into your arms and begin bawling like a child. Despite your repugnance for displaying a weakened state of mind, physically and mentally, you couldn't hold it in. If only...

_____________

After the sudden turn of events, you had exited your quarters once assuring that your eyes were no longer red. With nothing to do, you had a strange urge to rummage through Haytham's quarters to see what you could discover. Upon arriving to the side of the ship in which his dwellings laid, you immediately went to his desk. You knew it was wrong to go through someone's belongings, but you knew you wouldn't be the only one to do this. Especially with such an opportunity like this... After searching for anything that you could possibly learn from, you were about to give up, until you came across a journal.

"Yes!" You whispered, picking up the aged journal and staring upon it with awe. You flipped to a random page and began reading a few excerpts. There was one sentence that had caught your attention.

_It happened on the night before my birthday. The attack, I mean._

You began reading the full entry of that date- 9 December 1735. Barely the age 10, Haytham's home was attacked. He witnessed his father killed, his sister kidnapped. And he even had to end the life of one of his attackers.

_I didn't stop to think. I didn't even think about it all until much later. But in one movement I stepped up, reached, plucked the dead attacker's sword from the stair, raised it above my head and with two hands plunged it into his face before he could cut her throat._

Another excerpt read:

...  _Otherwise, the room was as always, left just as it had been after the last training session, with the covered billiard table moved and space made for me to train; where earlier that day I'd been tutored and scolded by Father._

_Where now Father was kneeling, dying._

_Standing over him was a man with his sword buried hilt deep in my father's chest, the blade protruding from his back dripping blood to the wooden floor. Not far away stood the pointy-eared man, who had a large gash down his face. It had taken two of them to defeat Father, and only just that._

Minutes later, you found yourself reading most of the entries up to the most recent date. You were relieved to find out that Haytham had managed to find his sister, and avenge his father by killing the one behind the attack. Although you were a bit disturbed by the Templar talk, you also discovered how he became one, and why he couldn't cease from being one all of a sudden. 

"I think I'm done for the day..." You said to yourself silently, closing the book and placing it back in its original position.

"So, I assume you understand now?"

You jumped, and turned to see Haytham at the entrance. You didn't respond to his question- you had no words at the moment. 

"You're not the only one with a rough past."

"I'm sorry," you began, preventing from saying anything else. "I should have never presumed... I was being judgmental."

He, too, was silent after your statement. Wanting to disrupt the silence, he said, "I have a son, don't I?" He sounded slightly edgy.

"You don't know?" You said, with much disbelief.

"I will be taking that as a yes."

"You haven't seen him before?"

"No, not at all. What makes you-"

"How the hell did you not know whether you had a son or not?" 

"Does he know of me?"

"Well," you began, scratching the back of your head. "You could say that..." You weren't going to mention what Connor thought of his father. "But, you do realize that he is seventeen years of age already, right?" 

"I figured as much."

"Unbelievable."

"I know."

_______________________

After you had retired to your own quarters, you had gotten your own journal from Haytham. Your old one was left back at the homestead, and you figured it would be better to start anew. Haytham suggested you begin writing constantly in one, and you knew why. It was good to record memories of your life, as you can fully understand and comprehend life. You picked up a quill and began writing.

_17 November 1773_

_Once upon a time, a young girl by the name of [First Name] [Last Name] was trained by a former Assassin. Her endeavors seemed promising, although they lacked many things. She was a girl of thirteen at the time, naiveté thriving within a young soul. She had a good life at the time. That girl was me. But as time passed, everything changed. I met a boy, of same age. Turns out I knew him long before. I trained alongside him, hoping that I could one day I could be admired by youths. Time continued to pass- I realized it would take a long time for me to become the person I yearned to be. But the boy, he had stayed by my side until this very day. But here I am, seventeen years of age, leaving my home, leaving him. He doesn't know my whereabouts, neither does my mentor. I veritably ditched and left behind everything I loved. I left behind my past self, but soon I will return one day. I will come back as a different person, one with more experience, strength, and wisdom. I know it will be hard to return, as I've caused enough trouble already by leaving so suddenly._

_I hope that if someone ever reads this, be it the man who has raised me, the man I love, or a complete stranger for I care, they would understand why I had performed such actions. Who knows, maybe I'm not doing the right thing. That's probably true. But I believe time will tell._

_I would have ended right there, but I felt like this was necessary. Connor, I know you cannot hear or read what I am writing, but just know that I never meant to leave so suddenly. You don't know how much you mean to me, and I just hope that when I return, you will still be there for me. All I ask is that you reminisce the times we've spent together, and never forget. Never forget me, for I shall return for you, and only you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE: The sequel, Return, is out! Well, the first chapter, anyway. XD


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